A man was lounging near one of them, keeping a sharp look-out up and down the street. He straightened up when he saw us and opened the door of the first car. With a nod Peters stepped into it and the lounger mounted after him. The car pulled away from the door and started slowly up the street and away.
The Chief opened the door of the other car and motioned me into it. He followed me and closed the door, nodding to the liveried driver. “We’re riding together for the present. Both drivers are men of our own. We will rendezvous just outside Jamaica. But we’re going there by different routes.”
I was filled with exultation at the thought that we were starting on our final journey to clean up the work that had occupied my every thought for the better part of a year. But I was far from feeling that the task before us was a simple one.
“Have you made any definite plan of campaign for when we get there?” I asked the Chief presently.
He nodded. “Yes, I have, Clayton. This is a tricky business and I know it. I have no great confidence that a gang as well organized as the one we have to deal with is ignorant of our movements or yours for that matter. They have too many spies about.
“On the other hand,” he went on, “I am pretty certain that they know nothing about the men who are to meet us at the station. That was all arranged in code over the telephone. So, while there is a chance that they will try to hold us up before we get there, I do not believe that they will do so, because they will think we are weak in numbers and they can finish us better on their own grounds. I’m banking on that to get through.
“When we do get there, I think the garage is our best means of approach. If we can get into the garage and overpower the guard, we ought to be able to take them by surprise. And we’ll have plenty of men. Frankly, Clayton, after what you and Peters have told me of this gang’s resources, I’m afraid that if we surround the place and try to take it by frontal attack, they’ll try to cover up their traces and get away. We have no idea how many other ‘earths’ they may have; I mean, underground exits.” He paused. “And we want to round up the whole gang.”
“That seems like a good plan,” I answered. “Those men I saw on the beach may have been getting in by some other entrance.”
“Exactly. I think we’ll try the garage, anyway,” he concluded.
We left it at that and fell to speculating about Moore and Pride, and whether they were still alive. I was equally worried about Larry. But they had less quarrel with him, perhaps.