Band books

Condon heard nothing. His attention was riveted upon
the bed in which he thought to find a young boy and his helpless,
invalid grandmother.
The American sought only the bank roll. If he could possess
himself of this without detection, well and good; but were he to
meet resistance he was prepared for that too. The lad's clothes
lay across a chair beside the bed. The American's fingers felt
swiftly through them--the pockets contained no roll of crisp, new
notes. Doubtless they were beneath the pillows of the bed. He
stepped closer toward the sleeper; his hand was already half way
beneath the pillow when the thick cloud that had obscured the moon
rolled aside and the room was flooded with light. At the same
instant the boy opened his eyes and looked straight into those of
Condon. The man was suddenly conscious that the boy was alone in
the bed. Then he clutched for his victim's throat. As the lad rose
to meet him Condon heard a low growl at his back, then he felt his
wrists seized by the boy, and realized that beneath those tapering,
white fingers played muscles of steel.


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