He smiled somewhat amusedly at himself, as he
passed out of the room and descended the stairs to the hall below. The
contents of the safe could hardly have added anything that would be of
any service even in an emergency! His mental inventory of his pockets
had been incomplete--there was still the thin, metal insignia case, and
the black silk mask, both of which, like the automatic, were never now
out of his immediate possession.
He slipped into his coat as Jason held it out for him, accepted the
soft felt hat which Jason extended, and, with a nod to the old
butler, ran down the steps, dismissed Benson, who stood waiting, and
entered his car.
It was three-quarters of an hour later when Jimmie Dale drew up at the
curb on the main street of the little Long Island town that was his
destination.
"Pretty good run!" said Jimmie Dale to himself, as he glanced at the
car's clock under its little electric bulb. "Halfpast nine."
He descended from the car, and nodded as he surveyed his surroundings.
He had stopped neither in front of the bank, nor in front of Forrester's
rooms--it was habit again, perhaps, the caution prompted by Forrester's
statement relative to the bank examiners.
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