knew her surmise had been right; some one had entered from the street and was now striking a match, either to make sure of his whereabouts or to guide the manner of his advance. The uncertain light of that burning match showed her one other tableau. This was Keudell, half-way up the stairs, with a revolver in his hand and Andelman crouching close behind him. He stood poised and menacing, as though prepared for any emergency. But a gasp that was half anger and half relief burst from him as the match burned up.
"Easy there!" suddenly called out the man with the match-end. And as he spoke Sadie Wimpel knew it was the big man who had held her down in the taxicab. He had obviously just caught sight of his colleague with the leveled firearm.
"What the devil do you mean by coming in that way?" demanded Andelman. "Without a word of warning?"
"It's the only way I had time for!"
"What's wrong?"
"Listen: he's got Spike's driver. In ten minutes they'll be hot on this trail!"
"Who has?"
"Wilsnach has!"
