The others also had heard and they were on their feet when Tom entered. A volley of questions was fired at him. The valet shook his head.
“Don’t eat a man. It’s all right. Everything looks clear, but Mr. Hughes and Bungey are scouting round to make sure. They’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Labar judged that it might be time to create a diversion. A half-suspicion had come into his mind, but he scarcely believed it himself.
“Looks to me as though he had left the rest of you to hold the baby,” he announced in level tones. “While you’re monkeying about here like a lot of sapheads Larry and Billy are on their way. They’ve played you for a gang of suckers.”
Tom wheeled upon him on the instant. “So you say,” he retorted. “That’s one of the things the boss does not do. I’ve known him as long as anyone and he always plays square with the boys. Mr. Hughes is a square grafter.”
“Huh!” said the detective. “Wait and see.”
“It looks fishy to me,” said someone, and Labar knew that he had succeeded in instilling doubt into at least one mind.
“Tom’s right,” said Sophie Lengholm. “Larry has his little ways but he doesn’t snitch and he isn’t a coward.”
“But if he has gone?” wailed a tearful voice, in which Labar recognised the accents of Mrs. Gertstein. “What shall we do?”
“Don’t snivel till you’re hurt,” snarled a gruff voice. “Gone or not we’re no worse off. No one can touch us here yet.”
“We can’t stay here and starve and if we go out they’ll put us in prison.” Adèle Gertstein was becoming hysterical. “Oh, can’t we do something?”
Tom moved softly across to her and spoke low voiced. “If you can’t keep quiet we’ll find a way that will settle you,” he said. “Make yourself a nuisance and someone will be sticking a bit of steel into you as likely as not.” He gripped her shoulder and shook her fiercely. “Now that will be all from you.”
She made some inarticulate protest and then fell cowed and silent.
Tom addressed the gang. “I’m going back now to wait for the boss. If anyone likes to come along there’s no reason against it.”
One man volunteered, and with a final warning to the others to wait in patience Tom moved off. With the aid of his knife the detective set himself to dispose of the remainder of his bonds. He dropped them at last noiselessly to his side, and marked one of Billy Bungey’s associates as the first object of attack.
Inch by inch holding to the shadows as far as possible he edged towards his man. Speed was of the essence of his plan. If he guessed wrong he knew himself as good as dead.
Suddenly he leapt. The full weight of his heavy body was behind his fist which caught his man full on the point. The fellow fell like a sack and almost simultaneously Labar was by the unconscious body feeling feverishly in the right hand jacket pocket for the weapon he believed to be there. His judgment was right and as he pulled himself upright a heavy automatic was in his hand. He squeezed the trigger and a spurt of flame and a heavy report which reverberated lengthily in the confined space, told the others almost before they knew what had happened that he was armed.
“Keep away from me,” he ordered. “I’ll shoot among you if anyone moves.”
The answer was a shot which buried itself in the wall behind him, missing him by a yard. He brought his own weapon to a level and fired blindly. Someone screamed and there was a heavy fall. Unfamiliar as he was with firearms it had been impossible to miss at that distance, and with the target presented by a number of people.
“Do you want any more?” demanded the detective grimly.
There was no answer. Only the breathing of the group, and the muffled sobs of Mrs. Gertstein broke the stillness that had descended on the scene. Labar waited tensely alert for any menacing move. He was glad for several reasons that no one of his opponents had had presence of mind enough to put out the light. In the darkness it was highly probable that someone would get killed.
“Some of you have electric torches,” said Labar. “Throw one out here. Quick’s the word. I’m liable to get impatient.” He flourished his weapon significantly.
A man stepped a little forward and a torch thudded at the detective’s feet. Keeping a wary eye upon the group he picked it up with his left hand and switched the beam upon them.
“Now boys,” he said, “I don’t want to hurt anyone, but if I do you’ll only have yourselves to blame. Throw any pistols or other weapons that you have into the centre of the room. Don’t try to hold anything out on me or it will be the worse for you.”
There were men facing him who would not have hesitated to fly at his throat in many circumstances. So far the element of surprise had served him well. He dominated them for the time, but he knew that it needed only the slightest initiative on the part of one of them, and he would have
