Midnight! Why had the Tocsin set midnight, waited for midnight as the
hour for the Secret Service raid? Did she have a hidden purpose in that?
Was it possible she knew that some one beside Hunchback Joe would also
be here at that hour--that Clarke might be here, too! Well, why not!
There might well be need for a conference between Clarke and his unholy
chief of staff! There might--Jimmie Dale frowned savagely. His mind was
running riot! He had not come here to speculate on possibilities; for,
whatever might happen, there was definite and instant work to do.
The white ray of the flashlight played steadily now around him. The
place evidently served as the office; it was partitioned off again in
exactly the same manner from the rear of the shed, making an oblong
enclosure the width of the shed one way, and a good fifteen feet the
other. It was electric-lighted, and contained a battered table in lieu
of desk, upon which stood the telephone; there were several chairs, and
a safe, whose scratched, marred, and apparently ramshackle exterior did
not disguise from Jimmie Dale the fact that it was of the finest and
most modern make.
A rough, wooden stairway led above.
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