ed up at it.

"I always get mad when I look at this building," he said. "My great
grandfather had a truck garden on this exact spot seventy years ago, and
the old idiot sold out for three hundred dollars and a pair of mules!
How do you get in?"

"What are you going in for?" I asked.

"I was wondering if I had a grudge--I have, for that matter--against the
mayor, and I wanted to shoot him, how I would go about it. I think I
should find a point of vantage, like an overlooking window in an empty
building like this, and I would wait for a muggy night, also like this,
when the windows were up and the lights going. I could pot him with a
thirty-eight at a dozen yards, with my eyes crossed."

We had stopped near the arched gate where I had stood and waited for
Hunter, a week before. Suddenly Burton darted away from me and tried the
gate. It opened easily, and I heard him splashing through a puddle in
the gloomy yard.

"Come in," he called softly. "The water's fine."

The gate swung to behind me, and I could not see six inches from my
nose. Burton caught my elbow and steered me, by touching the fence,
toward the building.

"If it isn't locked too tight," he was saying, "we can get in, perhaps
through a window, and get up-stairs. From there we ought to be able to
see down into the club. What the devil's that?"

It was a rat, I think, and it scrambled away among the loose boards in a
frenzy of excitement. Burton struck a match; it burned faintly in the
dampness, and in a moment went out, having shown us only the approximate
location of the heavy, arched double doors. A second match showed us a
bar and a rusty padlock; there was no entrance to be gained in that
way.

The windows were of the eight-paned variety, and in better repair than
the ones on the upper floors. By good luck, we found one unlocked and
not entirely closed; it shrieked hideously as we pried it up, but an
opportune clap of thunder covered the sound.

By this time I was ready for anything that came; I was wet to my knees,
muddy, disreputable. While Burton held the window I crawled into the
warehouse, and turned to perform the same service for him. At first I
could not see him, outside. Then I heard his voice, a whisper, from
beyond the sill.

"Duck," he said. "Cop!"

I dropped below the window, and above the rain I could hear the squash
of the watchman's boots in the mud. He flashed a night lamp in at the
window next to ours, but he was not very ne