"That verse you just recited for me doesn't rhyme if you make it 'three' instead of 'two,'" John countered. "You win," conceded Brennan. "What time is it getting to be?" John looked at his watch. "Quarter to one," he answered. "What if they don't show----" A shaft of light shot through the darkness from the door. It was the prearranged signal from Murphy to inform them that Gibson and Cummings were approaching. As if jerked by cords held in a single hand they straightened up from their lounging positions. They heard the door open at the rear above them and footsteps on the floor, approaching until the noise was directly over their heads. Dust shook down on them from the grimy ceiling. Simultaneously they pulled on their headgears and listened. CHAPTER XX As clearly and distinctly as though he was at a telephone John heard the voices of "Gink" Cummings and Gibson in the room above him. Smith began writing his shorthand record of the conversation they overheard as soon as the conspirators began talking. "Well, what's new?" he heard a voice he knew to be Cummings' ask. "Things are about the same," he heard Gibson reply. "I can't see how anything can happen now to beat us." "The newspapers are the only thing that worry me," said Cummings. "Those damn reporters are never satisfied. They keep digging around until they stumble across something and then tear things to pieces. What about them? You haven't heard of anyone of them asking too many questions or getting suspicious, have you?" Gibson laughed. "Forget it, Cummings," he said. "I'll handle the reporters. They're not half as smart as they think they are and as people give them credit for being." In the glare from the electric torch that Brennan focused on Smith's notebook John saw Brennan wink at him. "Why, two of them--Brennan and Gallant--are my best friends," Gibson continued. "They've fallen for every stunt we've pulled." Brennan winked again. "Don't be so cock-sure," Cummings cautioned. "I've had more experience with them than you have and you're all wrong if you think they're a bunch of dumb-bells. You'll have to be mighty careful. You've sailed right along without any trouble because you've had sound advice. As soon as you think you're out of danger, that's the time something's sure to happen." "I'll admit you've steered me straighter than I could have gone alone," said Gibson, "but don't worry, I'm going to take good care of myself." There was a silence of a minute. John pictured Gibson and the "Gink" regarding each other critically through the smoke of their cigarette and cigar. It was Cummings who spoke first. "Gibson," he said, "this will be our last meeting before the election." "Why?" "I've decided we can't take any more chances," said Cummings. Another pause in the conversation. Then-- "Gibson, do we understand each other thoroughly?" "What makes you ask that?" John believed he detected a note of surprise in Gibson's counter question.