Well, why shouldn't they! It had
been well planned; it was natural enough! Larry the Bat, in his turn,
laughed, mirthlessly. But the game was not yet played out!
Through the by-ways, lanes and alleys of the underworld, Jimmie Dale
once more threaded his way, and finally, mounting the dark stairway
leading upward from the side entrance of a small house just off Chatham
Square, he let himself stealthily into a room on the first landing. It
was Virat now, and this was where Virat lived--a locality where a
stranger took his life in his hand any time! Below stairs was a pseudo
tea-merchant's store--kept by a Chinese "hatchet" man. But Lang Chang
had not been in evidence when he, Jimmie Dale, had crept up the stairs,
for there had been no light in the store windows.
And now Jimmie Dale's flashlight was playing around the room. Halfpast
one, she had said. It could not be more than one o'clock as yet There
was ample time to search for the bonds.
He began to move noiselessly around the room--a rather ornately
furnished combination sitting and bedroom. "Keep away, if dangerous,"
had been the Tocsin's caution. He smiled grimly. What danger could there
be? He had only to face one at a time; the Tocsin could absolutely be
depended upon to see to that, and the advantage of surprise was with
him.
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