I did so and reassured Garrick while the cab started on a blind
cruise around the block.

On the floor was a curiously heavy instrument, on which I had
stubbed my toe as I entered. I surmised that it must have been the
thing which Garrick had brought from his office, but in the
darkness I could not see what it was, nor was there a chance to
ask a question.

"Stop here," ordered Garrick, as we passed a drug store with a
telephone booth.

Dillon jumped out and disappeared into the booth.

"He is calling the reserves from the nearest station," fretted
Garrick. "Of course, we have to do that to cover the place, but
we'll have to work quickly now, for I don't know how fast a tip
may travel in this subterranean region. Here, I'll pay the taxi
charges now and save some time."

A moment later Dillon rejoined us, his face perspiring from the
closeness of the air in the booth.

"Now to that place on Forty-eighth Street, and we're square,"
ordered Garrick to the driver, mentioning the address. "Quick!"

There had been, we could see, no chance for a tip to be given that
a raid was about to be pulled off. We could see that, as Garrick
and I jumped out of the cab and mounted the steps.