“Close the door and pull down the shades, Eddie, and I’ll light up so we can have a look around.” Eddie did so, and Val lighted the gas.
They were surprised at the comfort and good taste shown in the furnishing of the room. The room they had entered was evidently a combined living room and library, with deep leather chairs, a reading lamp, a walnut library table, and rather fine prints and etchings on the walls. The first thing that struck Val’s attention, however, was a bundle of books on the library table. Even before he advanced to them he knew that they were the ones he was looking for.
“Ah, we have with us to-day, Eddie, pieces of eight, doubloons and Spanish gold, as exemplified in yon books—maybe,” he waved his hand to the books. He looked them over briefly, perfunctorily. A second glance told him that he was correct.
“Are they the ones?” asked Eddie. Val nodded.
Eddie opened the suitcase and placed the books within carefully. “Let’s go.”
“Right—oh! Let us stagger homeward, my good man,” smiled Val. “Sorry we cannot wait until our good friend, Iggy Teck, comes back. It would be nice to visit him, but⸺”
The door opened silently, and four men stood in the door, quiet, grim, revolvers leveled. Only one spoke. It was the little cross-eyed man who had directed them to this address.
“Reach fer a cloud, men,” he said. “Grab yerself a star!”
“I take it that you mean⸺” began Val.
“Damn right, kid!” snapped the gangster. “Stick
