"That won't do. Everybody knows me." Boyd cast an apprehensive glance at the arched back of the bill-clerk, but Fraser, quick of resource in such a situation, forced him swiftly to make the change, saying:
"Nix. It's your only 'out.' Stand here, see!" He indicated a position beside the rear door. "I'll step out the other way where they can see me," he continued, pointing to the wagon-way at the right. "Savvy? When they grab me, you beat it, and don't wait for nothing."
"But you—"
Already they could hear the footsteps of the officers.
"I'll take a chance. Good-bye."
There was no time even for a hand-shake; Fraser stepped swiftly to the door, then strolled quietly out into the view of the two men, who an instant later accosted him.
"Are you Mr. Boyd Emerson?"
The adventurer answered brusquely, "Yes, but I can't talk to you now."
"You are under arrest, Mr. Emerson."
Boyd waited to hear no more. The glass door swung open noiselessly under his hand, and he stepped out just as the bill-clerk looked up from his work, staring out through the other entrance.