Harvey, superintended the placing of the men. Mallory, the lieutenant in
charge, was ensconced in the Superintendent's office, and six of his
assistants were with him, privileged to doze until called. One man stood
in the hall, in a position to watch the stairway and the windows at each
end; one patrolled the waiting room; and the ninth man strolled about in
front of the building, loitering in the shadows and watching the street
with trained eye. Before leaving the station Jim had a short talk with
Mallory.

"Watch it awful close," he said. "There's no telling what these people
will do."

"Very well, Mr. Weeks. They won't get ahead of us. But I should feel a bit
safer if you'd let me put a man by the vault."

Jim shook his head.

"There's such a thing as doing it too well, Mallory. And by all means I
hope that you won't do that."

He looked closely at the detective, who glanced away with a cautious nod.

That evening after dinner, Jim telephoned for Mattison, the
Superintendent, and a long talk ensued in Jim's room at the hotel. Neither
he nor Harvey wasted time in recounting the experiences of the day; they
had too many plans for the night. As Jim had said, it was necessary to
lose the books, and to lose them thoroughly. It was equally important that
the action should not be confided to any ordinary employee. The fewer men
that knew of it, the safer Jim would be, and so he finally decided to
confine the information within its original limits.