“Oh, that,” he said more gravely, “I’d forgotten all about it. It belongs to Steve. That shows I love you,” he added firmly; “I’d forgotten all about it.”
As he spoke there was the shrill call of a police whistle outside. “The police!” he gasped.
“Don’t let them get you,” she whispered. “They are coming this way.”
“Quick,” he said, grabbing her arm and leading her to a door. “We’ll hide here.” Now that danger, as he apprehended it, was definitely at hand, his spirits began to rise. He was of the kind which finds in suspense the greatest horror. They had barely reached the shelter of a door when Duncan and Gibbs ran in.
“Come on, Harry,” Duncan called to the slower man, “he’s upstairs. Get your gun ready.”
Nora clasped her lover’s hand tighter. “There’ll be some real shooting,” she whispered; “I hope Alice doesn’t get hurt. Listen!”
“The Chief’s got him for sure,” Gibbs panted, making his ascent at the best speed he could gather.
“They’ve gone,” Nora said, peering out; then she ventured into the hall. “Who’s the chief?” she asked.
“The chief of police I guess,” he groaned. “This is awful, Nora. I can’t have you staying here with all this going on. Go back into the card-room, and I’ll let you know what’s happened as soon as I can.”
“But what are you going to do?” she asked.