when shot home, would
yield when the door itself yielded--and not before. Without moving the
bolt, he turned--and his flashlight for a moment swept the room.

"Not much like the way they describe this sort of place in storybooks!"
murmured Jimmie Dale capriciously. "But I get the idea. Mr. Russian Jew
downstairs makes a bluff at using it for a storeroom."

Again the flashlight made a circuit. Here, there, and everywhere,
seemingly without any attempt at order, were piles of wooden shipping
cases. Only the centre of the room was clear and empty; that, and a
vacant space against the wall by the window.

Jimmie Dale, moving without sound, went to the window. There was a shade
on it, and it was pulled down. He reached up underneath it, felt for
the window fastening, and unlocked it; then cautiously tested the window
itself by lifting it an inch or two--it slid easily in its grooves.

He stood then for a moment, hardfaced, a frown gathering his forehead
into heavy furrows, as the flashlight's ray again and again darted
hither and thither. There was nothing, absolutely nothing in the room
but wooden packing cases. He lifted the cover of the one nearest to him
and looked inside. It was quite empty, except for some pieces of heavy
cord, and a few cardboard shoe boxes that, in turn, were empty, too.

"It's here, of course," said Jimmie Dale thoughtfully to himself.
"Clever work, too! But I can't move half a hundred packing cases without
that chap below hearing me; and I can't do it in ten minutes, either,
which, I imagine is the outside limit of time. Fortunately, though,
these cases are not without their compensation--a dozen men could hide
here."

He began to move about the room. And now he stooped before one pile of
boxes and then another, curiously attempting to lift up the entire pile
from the bottom. Some he could not move; others, by exerting all his
strength, gave a little; and then, finally, over in one corner, he found
a pile that appeared to answer his purpose.

"These are certainly empty," he muttered.

There was just room to squeeze through between them and the next stack
of cases alongside; but, once through, by the simple expedient of moving
the cases out a little to take advantage of the angle made by the
corner of the room, he obtained ample space to stand comfortably upright
against the wall. But Jimmie Dale was not satisfied yet. Could he see
out into the room? He experimented with his flashlight--and