Damn it, man, it's open!" They hurried outside.

French blew his whistle.

One of the plain-clothes men came running up from the avenue.

He was looking a little sheepish.
"What's wrong ?" French demanded.
"He's gone off," was the unwilling reply.

"I guess that chap's given us the slip." "Speak up," French insisted.
"The only place," the man went on, "we hadn't our eyes glued on, was the front door.