He was about to leave, then remembered the safe. Where was it? Opposite the last hole he had dug, he plied the crowbar, made another hole, and pulled himself through. His nostrils filled with the fresh scent of coal. He struck a match; yes, he was in a basement and the usual steps led upward. He tiptoed to a door and eased it open. A blue-eyed white girl stood in front of a steel cabinet, her blue eyes falling on him. She turned chalk white and she gave a high-pitched scream and swayed. He bounded down the steps and raced to his hole and clambered through, replacing the bricks with nervous haste. He paused, hearing loud voices.

“What’s the matter, Alice?”

“A man . . .”

“What man?”

“A man was in the door . . .”

“Oh, nonsense!”

“He was looking through the door!”

“Aw, you’re dreaming . . .”

“I did see a man!”

The girl was crying now.

“There’s nobody here.”

Another man’s voice sounded.

“What is it, Bob?”

“Alice says a man was here.”

“Come on. Let’s take a look.”

He waited, poised for flight. Footsteps descended the stairs.

“There’s nobody down here.”

“The window’s locked.”

“And there’s no door . . .”

“She’s seeing things.”

“You ought to fire her. She’s hysterical. She ought to get married.”

The men laughed. Footsteps sounded again on the steps. A door slammed. He sighed. But his glimpse of the room had been too brief. Was the safe in there? He had to know. Boldly he groped through once more. He reached the steps and pulled off his shoes and tiptoed up and peered through the keyhole. His head accidentally touched the door; it swung silently in a fraction of an inch, and he saw the girl bent over the cabinet, her back to him. Beyond her was the safe. He turned, tiptoed back down the steps. I found it, he thought exultantly.

Now he had to get the combination. Even if the window was locked, he could gain access to the room when the office closed. He slithered through the holes he had dug and stood again in the basement where he had left the radio; again he crawled out of the window and lifted himself up the rain pipe and peered. The steel dial shone. Resigned to a long wait, he returned to the basement and sat with his back against a wall. From faraway came faint sounds of the life aboveground; once he looked with a puzzled expression at the dark sky above his head. Frequently he rose and climbed the pipe to see the white hand open the dial, but nothing happened. He trembled with impatience. It was not the money that was luring him, but the fact that he could get it with impunity, without risking reprisal. Was the hand now twirling the dial . . . ? He rose and mounted the rain pipe and looked, but the hand was not in sight. He sat again with a heavy sigh.