"Almost forty men in there, boss," the deputy reported.
"All our crowd ready?"
"Yes."
"What time is it?"
"Quarter after twelve. I looked at my watch as I walked under the light at the corner."
"Let's get in action then," Kowen said. "I don't want any slips, now. I want to gather in the whole lot. Got the autos ready?"
"They're ready, boss, waiting down the street a couple of blocks."
"Signal them up, and we'll begin."
The deputy hurried away. Sheriff Kowen crossed the street, turned in through the gate, and blew a whistle.
On every side, deputies rushed toward the house, surrounding it immediately. Kowen ran up the steps and knocked at the door. An aperture was opened, a face peered out, there was an exclamation, and the aperture was closed again.
"Into it!" Kowen cried.
Deputies ran forward with axes and attacked the heavy door. The door at the rear was attacked in the same manner. Some of the men guarded the entrance to the basement, others watched the windows closely.
The front door crashed down, and the officers poured into the house. From the second floor came a chorus of cries and shrieks. The lights had been extinguished, and electric torches flashed.
"Watch those stairs!" Kowen cried. "Some of you clean out the basement—I want the entire crowd! I'll go above!"
