head of Wallaby Sam appeared in the vague shaft of light.
"We're in for a rumble!" Andelman called warningly up to him.
Wallaby Sam shuffled out on the landing. His was the only figure plainly visible to the watching girl. More than ever, with his rounded paunch and his rumpled-up hair-fringe and rubicund face, he looked like a blithe-spirited old robin finally driven into a dejection for which he had not been fashioned.
He pursed his heavy lips up in a dolorous whistle, blinking meditatively down into the darkness where the other three men were grouped.
"You'll have to hurry!" once more warned the big man.
"But where in London?" repeated Andelman, almost fretfully.
"The Tecumseh House. And have Heinold—"
He did not finish, for Wallaby Sam was calling down to him. "How about that girl?"
It was Andelman who answered. "For God's sake don't holler so loud! And why can't we have some light here?"
It was Keudell's voice, calm and authoritative,
