it, Malay knows I saw the coin put in there. D'ye think I'd give him a
chance of suspecting _me_! It's all fixed--you know that. Now, go to
it--there's a nice little piece of money in there that'll keep us going
till we pull that Chicago deal."

"All right!" Birdie Lee answered tersely. "Keep quiet, then, and I'll
see what I can do."

He laid his ear against the safe, listening for the tumblers' fall,
as, holding the flashlight in his left hand, its rays upon the dial,
the fingers of his right began to work swiftly again with the
glistening knob.

From below, the confused, dull medley of sound from the dance hall
seemed only to intensify the silence in the room. Slimmy Jack stood
motionless at the side of the safe, his elbow resting against the
old-fashioned, protruding upper hinge. A minute, two, another, and still
another dragged by. Came then a short ejaculation from Birdie Lee.

Slimmy Jack bent forward instantly.

"Got it?" he demanded eagerly.

"No--curse it!" gritted Birdie Lee. "My fingers seem to have lost their
touch--I ain't had much practice for the last five years up there in
Sing Sing!"

"Well, then, 'soup' it!" grunted Slimmy Jack. "You could blow the roof
off, and no one would be the wiser with that racket downstairs. We can't
waste all night over it."