“But where your underestimation is most marked,” said the impressive little man, sweeping his eyes round the attentive circle, “is in calculating the reserve in the vaults. In short, I have no hesitation in saying that, taking everything into consideration, there must be at least half a million of money lying in the Casino premises, at—the—very—least!”
In the dead silence, broken only by the taking in of breath, I could hear Lucy playing the piano down-stairs in the little room behind the bar.
Mr. Thompson sipped his punch again and looked at us calmly over the rim of his tumbler.
“And you think the money in the vaults is as easily got at as the rest?” Bob Hines asked, in a constrained voice.
“That I shouldn’t like to say,” Thompson cautiously replied. “I can tell you, however, that I have myself twice seen the bank broken; which only means, by-the-way, that the £4000 at that particular table had been won.”
“And what happened?”
“Play at that table was merely suspended while a further supply was being fetched from the vaults.”
“And where are the vaults?”
“Below the building somewhere, but precisely where I cannot tell you; but I have no doubt, once the rooms are in your possession, and, given the time, you would have no difficulty whatever in breaking into them.”
Impressive silence again, broken at last by Brentin. “And now, sir, will you be good enough to give us some idea of the amount of opposition we are likely to meet with?”