like rag-dolls to me. Honest, you do. I know when I’m suited. On the dead level, I do.”
Against the front door down-stairs repeated heavy blows were delivered. The loud crashes resounded in the room above. Only a trip-hammer or a policeman’s foot could have been the author of those sounds. Rooney jumped like a bullfrog to a corner of the room, turned off the electric lights and hurried swiftly below. The room was left utterly dark except for the winking red glow of cigars and cigarettes. A second volley of crashes came up from the assaulted door. A little, rustling, murmuring panic moved among the besieged guests. Frank, cool, smooth, reassuring, could be seen in the rosy glow of the burning tobacco, going from table to table.
“All keep still!” was his caution. “Don’t talk or make any noise! Everything will be all right. Now, don’t feel the slightest alarm. We’ll take care of you all.”
Ruby felt across the table until Cork’s firm hand closed on hers. “Are you afraid, Eddie?” she whispered. Are you afraid you’ll get a free ride?”
“Nothin’ doin’ in the teeth-chatterin’ line,” said Cork. I guess Rooney’s been slow with his envelope. Don’t you worry, girly; I’ll look out for you all right.”
Yet Mr. McManus’s ease was only skin- and muscle-deep. With the police looking everywhere for Buck Malone’s assailant, and with Corrigan still on the ocean
