The eyes of the women watchers looked at each other with faces weary and worn with anxiety and fear.
Then another sound broke the stillness. Another whistle—an answering call to the one that had rung forth before! It had the effect of startling every one in the house, for it came from under the very window of the room in which they were gathered.
With an upraised finger, cautioning silence, the sergeant stepped to the window and raised it softly.
"Hist!" he said in a thrilling whisper, without showing himself, "the lib'ry winder."
He softly closed the casement again, having discerned in that brief moment the moonlit shadows of three men lying athwart the lawn.
In stockinged feet the five men slid noiselessly into the library where the Venetians had been so lowered as to prevent the silvery moonrays from penetrating into the room. Placing the three gentlemen in convenient places should their assistance be needed, one of the men in uniform pushed aside the French window which he had previously unfastened to be in readiness.
"Hist! softly there," he growled; "the swag is ours."
With a barely concealed grunt of satisfaction the window was pushed farther open, and the forms of three men made their way into the room.
With lightning-like celerity the arms of the first man were pinioned, and when the others turned to fly they found their egress cut off by the three Prices, who stood pointing menacing revolvers at them.
"The game's up!" growled the sham pedlar. "Who blabbed?"