Still clinging to the rain pipe, he looked about the areaway; he saw no one. A daring idea came to him and he pulled the screwdriver from his belt. If the white hand twirled that dial again, he could see how far to the right and left the dial spun and he would have the combination! His blood tingled. I can scratch the numbers here. . . . Holding the pipe with one hand, he made the sharp edge of the screwdriver bite into the brick wall with the other. Yes, he could do it. He waited for a long time, but the white hand did not return. Goddamn! Had he been more alert, he could have counted the twirls and he would have had the combination! He got down and stood in the areaway, wrapped in reflection.

How could he get into that room? He climbed through the window and stood again in the basement and saw wooden stairs leading upward. Maybe that was the room in which someone was typing? The room where the safe stood? Thinking that the white hand was now fingering the steel dial, he pulled himself again through the window and climbed the rain pipe and peered through; he saw only the dial glinting in the yellow glow of an unseen electric light.

He got down, doubled his fists. Well, he would explore that basement. He went back and mounted the wooden steps to a door; he peered through a keyhole; all was dark, though the tapping was around or above him. He turned the knob and the door swung in; he looked into a room filled with crates; along a wall was a table upon which were many radios lying in disorder amid electrical tools. Looks like a radio shop, he muttered.

Well, he could rig up a radio in the cave. He found a sack, slid a radio into it, and slung it across his back. Closing the door, he went down the steps and stood again in the basement, disappointed. He had not solved the problem of the dial and he was irked. He set the radio on the floor and again hoisted himself through the window and up the rain pipe and squinted; the metal door was swinging shut. Goddamn! How could he get into that room? He could jimmy the window, but it would be better if he could get in without leaving any trace. He lowered himself into the basement. To the right of him, he calculated, should be the building that held the safe; therefore, if he dug a hole here, he ought to reach his goal. He began a quiet scraping; it was hard work, for the bricks were not damp. He eventually got one out and lowered it to the floor. He had to be careful; perhaps people were beyond the wall. For two hours he worked in the darkness, loosening bricks until he had made a fairly large hole. How thick was this wall? Seeing with his fingers, he extracted a second layer of brick, but there was still another. He was ready to surrender. I’ll dig one more, he resolved. When the next brick came out, he felt air. He waited to be challenged, but nothing happened.