"Them fellers go to a lot of trouble over little things like that,"
he said. "They like to slam their cards down on the table with a big
hurrah, even when the cards ain't worth a damn."

"He certainly held trumps this time, anyway," I commented. "And he
played his hand superbly. He is an extraordinary man."

"And a great actor," Grady supplemented. "Them fellers always behave
like they was on the stage, right in the spot-light. It makes me a
little tired, sometimes. Hello! Who's that?"

The front door had been flung open; there was an instant's colloquy
with the desk-sergeant, then a rapid step crossed the outer room, and
Godfrey burst in upon us.

He cast a rapid glance at the Boule cabinet, at the secret drawer
standing open, empty; and then his eyes rested upon Grady.

"So he got away with it, did he?" he inquired.

"Who in hell do you think you are?" shouted Grady, his face purple,
"coming in here like this? Get out, or I'll have you thrown out!"

"Oh, I'll go," retorted Godfrey coolly. "I've seen all I care to see.
Only I'll tell you one thing, Grady--you've signed your own
death-warrant to-night!"

"What do you mean by that?" Grady demanded, in a lower tone.