“Let's look alive! We haven't any time to waste. We'll have to change to dungarees--engineer togs. There'll be some tools to carry. We go straight down to the boiler room. We come up the ash exit on the street side. Remember, no suspicious haste. Two engineers off for their evening swig of beer at the corner groggery. Through the side door there, and into my taxi. Obey every order I give. Now run along to Kuroki and say night work for both of us. He'll understand what's wanted. I'll set the machinery in motion for a raid. How do you feel? I want the truth. I don't want to turn to you for help and not get it.” Hawksley laughed. “Don't worry about me. I'll carry on. Don't you understand? To have an end of it, one way or the other! To come free or to die there!” “And if Kitty is not where I believe her to be?” “Then I'll return to the taxi outside.” To be young like that! thought Cutty, feeling strangely sad and old. “To come free or to die there!” That was good Anglo-Saxon. He would make a good American citizen--if he were in luck. At half after nine the two of them knelt on the roof before the cemented trap. Nothing but raging heat disintegrates cement. So the liberation of this trap, considering the time, was a Herculean task, because it had to be accomplished with little or no noise. Cold chisels, fulcrums, prying, heaving, boring. To free the under edge; the top did not matter. Not knowing if Kitty were below--that was the worst part of the job. The sweat of agony ran down Hawksley's face; but he never faltered. He was going to die to-night, somehow, somewhere, but with free hands, the way Stefani would have him die, the way the girl would have him die. All these thousands of miles--to die in a house he had never seen before, just when life was really worth something! An hour went by. Then they heard Kitty's signal. Instinctively the two of them knew that the taps came from her. They were absolutely certain when her signal was repeated. She was below, alone. “Faster!” whispered Cutty. Hawksley smiled. To say that to a chap when he was digging into his tomb! When the sides of the trap were free Cutty tapped to Kitty again. There was a long, agonizing wait. Then three taps came from below. Cutty flashed a signal to the warehouse windows. In five minutes the raid would be in full swing--from the roof, from the street, from the cellar. With their short crowbars braced by stout fulcrums the two men heaved. Noise did not matter now. Presently the trap went over. “Look out for your hands; there's lots of loose glass. And together when we drop.” “Right-o!” whispered Hawksley, assured that when he dropped through the trap the result would be oblivion. Done in. CHAPTER XXXI