Grady nodded tolerantly.

“Them fellers go to a lot of trouble over little things like that,” he said.  “They like to slam their cards down on the table with a big hurrah, even when the cards ain’t worth a damn.”

“He certainly held trumps this time, anyway,” I commented.  “And he played his hand superbly.  He is an extraordinary man.”

“And a great actor,” Grady supplemented.  “Them fellers always behave like they was on the stage, right in the spot-light.  It makes me a little tired, sometimes.  Hello!  Who’s that?”

The front door had been flung open; there was an instant’s colloquy with the desk-sergeant, then a rapid step crossed the outer room, and Godfrey burst in upon us.

He cast a rapid glance at the Boule cabinet, at the secret drawer standing open, empty; and then his eyes rested upon Grady.

“So he got away with it, did he?” he inquired.

“Who in hell do you think you are?” shouted Grady, his face purple, “coming in here like this?  Get out, or I’ll have you thrown out!”

“Oh, I’ll go,” retorted Godfrey coolly.  “I’ve seen all I care to see.  Only I’ll tell you one thing, Grady—­you’ve signed your own death-warrant to-night!”

“What do you mean by that?” Grady demanded, in a lower tone.

“I mean that you won’t last an hour after the story of this night’s work gets out.”

Grady’s colour slowly faded as he met the burning and contemptuous gaze Godfrey turned upon him.  As for me, an awful fear had gripped my heart.

“Do you mean to say it wasn’t Piggott?” stammered Grady, at last.

Godfrey laughed scornfully.

“No, you blithering idiot!” he said.  “It wasn’t Pigot.  It was Crochard himself!”

And he stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE FATE OF M. PIGOT

Whatever may have been Grady’s defects of insight and imagination, he was energetic enough when thoroughly aroused.  Almost before the echo of that slamming door had died away, he was beside the sergeant’s desk.

“Get out the reserves,” he ordered, “and have the other wagon around.  ’Phone headquarters to rush every man available up to the Day and Night Bank, and say it’s from me!”

He stood chewing his cigar savagely as the sergeant hastened to obey.  In a moment, the reserves came tumbling out, struggling into their coats; there was a clatter of hoofs in the street as the wagon dashed up; the reserves piled into it, permitting me to crowd in beside them, Grady jumped to the seat beside the driver, and we were off at a gallop, our gong waking the echoes of the silent street.