However,
I can get past the outer door, I think, even if it is strong. But
inside--you must have heard of it--is the famous steel door, three
inches thick, made of armor-plate. It's no use to try it at all unless
we can pass that door with reasonable quickness. All the evidence we
shall get will be of an innocent social club-room down-stairs. The
gambling is all on the second floor, beyond this door, in a
room without a window in it. Surely you've heard of that famous
gambling-room, with its perfect system of artificial ventilation and
electric lighting that makes it rival noonday at midnight. And don't
tell me I've got to get on the other side of the door by strategy,
either. It is strategy-proof. The system of lookouts is perfect.
No, force is necessary, but it must not be destructive of life or
property--or, by heaven, I'd drive up there and riddle the place with
a fourteen-inch gun," exclaimed O'Connor.
"H'm!" mused Kennedy as he flicked the ashes off his cigar and
meditatively watched a passing freight-train on the railroad below us.
"There goes a car loaded with tons and tons of scrap-iron. You want me
to scrap that three-inch steel door, do you?"
"Kennedy, I'll buy that particular scrap from you at--almost its
weight in gold. The fact is, I have a secret fund at my disposal such
as former commissioners have asked for in vain. I can afford to pay
you well, as well as any private client, and I hear you have had some
good fees lately. Only deliver the goods.
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