There was a moment's silence. Lane, too, had heard a noise, but could not be sure whether it was inside the building or not.
Swann hurried over to join Thesel. They looked blankly at each other. The air might have been charged. Both girls showed alarm.
Then Lane, with his hand on the gun in his pocket, strode out to confront them.
"Oh—h!" gasped Lorna, as if appalled at sight of her brother's face.
"Fellows, I'll have to break up your little party," said Lane, coolly.
Thesel turned ghastly white, while Swann grew livid with rage. He seemed to expand. His hand went back to his right hip.
When Lane got within six feet of them, Swann drew a small automatic pistol. But before he could raise it, Lane had leaped into startling activity. With terrific swing he brought his gun down on Swann's face. Then as swiftly he turned on Thesel. Swann had hardly hit the floor, a sodden heap, when Thesel, with bloody visage, reeled and fell like a log. Lane bent over them, ready to beat either back. But both were unconscious.
"Daren—for God's sake—don't murder them!" whispered Lorna, hoarsely.
Lane's humanity was in abeyance then, but his self-control did not desert him.
"You girls must hurry out of here," he ordered.