“I’m sorely tempted,” said Cecil, half-grimly. “Now here’s the point. It seems Maurice has got into touch with Kessock, the Yank millionaire. Kessock wants to buy the Medusa Medallions—the very thing my father set most store by in the whole lot. Kessock’s sent over an agent of his—this fellow Foss who’s staying here just now—to settle up the business, see to the genuineness of the things, and so forth. I’ve nothing against Foss. He’s only doing his job and he seems all right. I don’t like some of his American manners; but that’s neither here nor there. The point is, the deal’s just going to be closed. Now if we lift these medallions, won’t Maurice look an extra-sized ass?”
“Absoluto!” said Foxy. “I see what you’re after. We lift ’em. Foss wants ’em at once. He can’t get ’em. P’raps the deal’s off—for the time at least. And Maurice looks a prize ape.”
“Yes,” Cecil snapped, angrily. “That’ll perhaps teach him a lesson.”
Una Rainhill had been thinking while this last part of the conversation had been going on.
“There’s one thing you haven’t provided against, Foxy,” she pointed out. “Suppose you manage everything as you’ve arranged. Even if you get clear away from the museum, there’s almost certain to be someone in the passage outside who’ll see you rush out. And then the game would be up. It’s not enough to dowse the light in the museum. You’ll need to put all the house lights out as well.”
“That’s sound,” Foxy agreed at once. “That means that you’ll need to pull out the main switch instead of just the fuse of the museum. It’s an even easier job, with no chance of a mistake in it. And what a spree it’ll be. The whole shop will be buzzing like an overturned hive! It’ll be great sport. And, of course, there’ll be such a wild confusion before they get the lights on again, that we’ll come out of it absolutely O.K. All we have to do is to saunter quietly out of the museum and help to restore order among the rabble in the dark. By the time the lights go on again, we’ll be anywhere it suits us to be. That’s a master-stroke of yours, Una. Couldn’t be bettered.”
Cecil glanced at his wrist-watch.
“Time’s getting on, Foxy. We’ve sketched the general idea, but we must get this thing down to dots now. Everything will depend on synchronizing things exactly. We can’t afford to leave affairs to the last moment; for we mustn’t be seen together, you know, to-morrow night.”
Foxy nodded assent and pulled out a notebook.
“Here it is, then,” he declared. “I’ll make three copies—one for each of us—and we can burn ’em once we’ve memorized ’em later on. Now, first of all, we can’t start our game too early. That’d be a mistake. Let ’em all get well mixed up in dancing and so forth, before we begin operations.”
Cecil and Una assented to this at once.
“Midnight’s the limit at the other end,” Foxy pointed out. “Can’t afford to wait for the unmasking, for then the keeper would know us and remember we’d been in the museum when the thing happened.”
His fellow-conspirators made no objection.
“In between those limits, I think this would be about right,” Foxy proposed. “First of all, we set our three watches to the same time. Better do it now, for fear of forgetting.”
When this had been done, he continued:
“At 11.40 Una goes to the main switch. You’ll have to show her where it is, Cecil, either to-night or to-morrow morning. At 11.40, also, Cecil and I wander independently into the museum. I remember quite well where the medallions are kept.”
“Wait a moment,” interrupted Cecil. “Just remember that the three real medallions and your three electrotypes are lying side by side in the glass case. The real medallions are in the top row; your electros are the bottom row.”
Foxy made a note of this and then went on:
“Your business, Cecil, will be to mark down the keeper. Get so near him that you can jump on him for certain the very instant the lights go out. Make sure you can get his hands or his wrists at the first grab. You mustn’t fumble it or you’ll shipwreck the whole caboodle.”
“I’ll manage it all right,” Cecil assured him.
“In the meantime I’ll be stooping over the medallion case, looking at the stuff, with something in my hand to break the glass. I’ll have a thick glove, so as not to get cut with the edges when I put my hand in.”
“That’s sound,” said Cecil, “I hadn’t thought of the splinters.”
“Blood would give us away at once,” Foxy pointed out. “Now comes the real business. At a quarter to twelve precisely Una pulls out the switch. As soon as the light goes, Cecil jumps on the keeper while I smash the glass of the case and grab the top row of the medallions. After that, we both cut for the door and mingle with the mob. And remember, not a word said during the whole affair. Our voices would give us away to the keeper.”
He scribbled two extra copies of his time-table and handed one of these to each of the other conspirators.
