It points to the
fact that the boss of the den has UNLOADED! He's been thoughtful where
his lady clients were concerned, but probably the men have simply been
kicked out and left to shift for themselves. If we only knew one of them
it might be confirmed."
"It's not worth worrying about, now," growled Stringer. "Let's have a
look at the time."
He fumbled inside his overcoat and tugged out his watch.
"Here's a light," said Rogers, and shone the ray of an electric torch
upon the watch-face.
"A quarter-to-three," grumbled Stringer. "There may be murder going on,
and here we are."...
A sudden clamor arose upon the shore, near by; a sound as of
sledge-hammers at work. But above this pierced shrilly the call of a
police whistle.
"What's that?" snapped Rogers, leaping up. "Stand by there!"
The sound of the whistle grew near and nearer; then came a voice--that
of Sergeant Sowerby--hailing them through the fog.
"DUNBAR'S IN! But the gang have escaped! They've got to a motor launch
twenty yards down, on the end of the creek"...
But already the police boat was away.
"Let her go!" shouted Rogers--"close inshore! Keep a sharp lookout for a
cutter, boys!"
Stringer, aroused now to excitement, went blundering forward through
the fog, joining the men in the bows.
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