a kid could open it! Didn't I tell you I was handing you one on a
gold platter!"

The light ray now flooded the front of the safe, and outlined the forms
of the two men. One of them, holding the flashlight, dropped on his
knees, and began to twirl the dial tentatively; the other leaned
negligently against the corner of the safe.

"I ain't so sure it's easy, Slimmy," replied the man on his knees,
after a moment. He stopped twirling the dial, and looked up. "Mabbe
it'll take longer than we figured on. Are you sure there ain't no
chance of Malay gettin' back? I'd rather stack up against every bull in
New York than him."

The twisted smile on Jimmie Dale's lips still lingered. So that was
Slimmy Jack there, leaning against the safe! Slimmy Jack--and Birdie
Lee! His fingers drew the hangings a little further apart. The room was
in complete darkness except for the circle of light around the safe, and
it was as though what was being enacted before him were some strange,
realistic film thrown upon a screen--just two forms in the white light,
their faces masked, against the background of the safe, with its
glittering nickel dial. And now Slimmy Jack, from his negligent pose,
straightened sharply and leaned toward Birdie Lee.

"Say, what's the matter with you, Birdie!" he exclaimed roughly. "You
didn't let 'em get your nerve up the river, did you? You've been acting
kind of queer all day. I told you before, Malay wouldn't be back in time
to monkey with _us_. We don't have to stand for this--I told you that,
too. You don't think I'm a fool, do you, to steer you into a lay that's
got a come-back on myself unless the thing was planted right? Why, damn