“Oh—Langley! You got there! Good! What? Your uncle is gone? Gone? Gone! Lang—where? You don’t know? What’ll I do, Lang? You don’t know? Well, I do!” and he slammed the receiver on its hook.
“Hurry!” urged Bob as the trio raced to the lighted doorway.
At the safe, kneeling, was Griff. He twirled the dial, clanged back the safe door, reached for the packet of bills again.
“Here—you mustn’t! You daren’t. That isn’t yours!”
White-faced, Griff identified Al as the latter called his warning.
“I must!” he snapped, and stood up, holding the packet.
Over the offices came the drone of the approaching airplane circling for a landing. Al moved toward Griff.
“Get back!” Griff was furious. Bob, behind him, snatched the packet of bills, flung it into the safe, slammed the door. Griff, with a furious snarl, bent to recover the packet, but the door was shut.
He flung off Bob, who backed into Al and Curt.
Heedless of the roar of the airplane engine as the ship came low over the office roofs in its descent, Bob, Al and Curt disentangled themselves, got to their feet.