"Yes. We could turn over a couple of floors to your girls. Put guards at the stairways and elevators. I ought to warn you that I'd give orders that any of them who are found off their floors should be shot on sight." For a long tense moment the silence held. "We haven't much choice," Margot said at length from between her teeth. "How can I contact my girls?" * * * * * Matt's eyes were bright. "We'll release you. You can go talk to them yourself. Of course we'll keep these other women as hostages. You can have three hours. At the end of that time, if you haven't returned, we'll hang one of your girls at the front gate every hour until you do!" Margot stared at him in disbelief, then gradually realized that he was serious. "When can I go?" "Now." "Now?" she said. "Where do I bring them?" "Into the freight entrance--unarmed!--and in three hours." "What about these irons?" "We'll strike them off." He sent the chief engineer after the torch. They waited in tense silence until the chief returned. "Wait a moment," said Matt. "Hadn't we better put this to a vote?" "Yes," agreed Isaac. He stood up. "Any objections?" They were too stunned to offer any. "Very well," said Isaac. "Strike off her shackles, Steve." Matt leaned down the table. "Get your automatic, Lynn. Take Duff and Jacob Haddin with you and escort her to the gate. Let her out, then come straight back here." Lynn nodded and slipped from the room. She was back by the time Margot's shackle had dropped to the floor. "O.K.," said Matt to the red-headed leader. "You can go now." He glanced at his watch. "But if you're not back by eleven o'clock we begin to hang your girls, one every hour until you do get back!" Margot nodded silently. Escorted by Lynn and the two men, she disappeared through the door. Captain Bascom inquired in a tight voice, "What in hell are you proposing, Matt?" "To put the lot of them in irons. You don't suppose I'd trust them to live up to their side of the agreement, do you?" * * * * * The vast echoing hall that was the freight depot was ablaze with lights. Matt Magoffin paced nervously back and forth in front of the door, his chunky figure casting a monstrous shadow. He glanced at his watch and took a last reassuring glance about the hall. The freight elevator's door that lined the right hand wall were all closed. The ramp was blocked; all the other exits were bolted. The minutes dragged past. Matt suddenly heard voices. Then a bell began to ring shrilly. He went to the control box and pressed a button. The massive outer doors swept soundlessly open. The driveway outside was massed with women--lean women and fat women, old and young, big and little. Margot Drake was at their head. "Have you disposed of your arms?" Matt called. "Yes." The red-headed leader stared into the silent empty hall, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Then bring 'em in."