He wanted to be
alone with this adventure, match his cunning and his strength against
whoever guarded the money of old Lewison, the miser.
"Stay here," he whispered in the ear of Denver. "Keep quiet. I'm going to
slip over there and see what's what. Be patient. It may take a long
time."
Denver nodded.
"Better let me come along. In case--"
"Your job is opening that safe; my job is to get you to it in safety and
get you away again with the stuff." Denver shrugged his shoulders. It was
much in the method of famous old Black Jack himself. There were so many
features of similarity between the methods of the boy and his father that
it seemed to Denver that the ghost of the former man had stepped into the
body of his son.
In the meantime Terry faded into the dark. His plan of approach was
perfectly simple. The house to the right of the bank was painted blue.
Against that dark background no figure stood out clearly. Instead of
creeping close to the ground to get past the guard at the rear of the
building, he chose his time when the watcher had turned from the nearest
end of his beat and was walking in the opposite direction.
Pages:
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307