he failed at
Spider Jack's, if, after all, he was wrong, and the package had never
been there, or if they had forestalled him, turned the trick upon
him, already secured it, then--Larry the Bat's lips, working on his
cigarette, formed in a twisted smile--then, well then, that was quite
another matter! Perhaps he and the Magpie might not agree so far! A half
million dollars was perhaps not much out of eleven millions, but it was
a salvage not to be despised! Why did he say half a million! Well, why
not? If the Magpie knew of a single transaction of eighty thousand,
and there had been many transactions during the day, a half million was
little likely to prove an exaggeration--and the less likely in view
of the fact that, if those in the Crime Club were preparing for
an emergency, they would not stint themselves in the disposal of
securities.

The Magpie was keeping up a running fire of questions, as the Tocsin
toiled on with her pencil. Where did the hall lead to? How many windows
in the library? Did she remember the kind of fastenings? Did the
servants sleep in the basement, or above? And finally, twice over, as
she finished the clumsy drawing and pushed it toward him, he demanded
minute details of the position of the safe.

"Aw, dat's all right, Slimmy!" Larry the Bat cut in airily. "If youse
ferget anyt'ing when youse get in dere, youse can ask me. I got it
cinched!"

The Magpie folded the paper and stowed it carefully away in his pocket.

"Ask youse, eh!" he grunted sarcastically. "An' where do youse t'ink
youse'll be about dat time?"

"In dere wid youse, of course," replied Larry the Bat promptly. "Dat's
wot youse said."

"Yes, youse will--NOT!" announced the Magpie, with cold finality. "Do
youse t'ink I want to queer myself! A hot one youse'd be on an inside
job! Youse'll be OUTSIDE, wid yer peepers skinned for de bulls--youse
an' Mag here, too. See! Get dat straight. While I'm on de job youse
two plays de game. Now youse listen to me, both of youse. Don't start
nothin' unless youse has to. If it's a cinch I got to make a get-away,
youse two start a drunk fight. Get me? Youse know de lay. T'row de talk
loud--an' I'll fade. Dat's all! We'll crack de crib early--it'll be
quiet enough up dere by one o'clock."

One o'clock! Larry the Bat shook his head. What time was it now? It was
about nine when he had first met the Tocsin, then the Sanctuary, then
the long walk as he had followed her--say a quarter of ten f