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He paused; and Jimmie nodded sympathetically, remembering the story of the eight chorus-girls about whom "Wild Bill" had read out in the local. "It's hell for a boy to have a lot of money," said Lacey, "and to be preyed on by women.
With a tread as noiseless as a cat's, he was across the room to satisfy himself that the shutters were tightly closed; and then the single gas jet flared up, murky, yellow, illuminating the miserable, squalid room the Sanctuary the home of Larry the Bat. There was need for silence, need for caution. In five minutes, ten at the outside, he must emerge again as Jimmie Dale.
"What bunch?" demanded Jimmie. "Why, the Chinks, of course." "What they coming here for?" "I guess they expect to take the Philippines home with 'em," was the reply. "Anyway, they're plotting to take Uncle Sam down and search him for them." "Did you hear much of their talk?" asked Jimmie.
"I've done my best," Jimmie said, in a discouraged tone. Frank Shaw smiled and dropped down behind a huge rock. "Just wait a minute," he said. "Just wait until I catch me breath, and I'll put him wise to the fact that there's a Black Bear somewhere in this turned-up-on-edge country. Watch, and see him jump."
Dale had gone away for a trip"? He could trust Jason; Jason already knew much more than one of those mysterious letters of the Tocsin's had passed through Jason's hands. Jimmie Dale shook his head. No; he could communicate with Jason from downtown in the morning.
O Jimmie, dear Jimmie, you will surely write to me?" "Naturally," said Jimmie, and his thin, young face looked happier than it had at any other time since the beginning of this conversation; happier than it had in many preceding conversations with this very unsatisfying but charming interlocutor. "I always do.
"It's going into my paper straight, Mr. Banks, and in your own words." While he spoke, his vigilant glance rested lightly on one of the several guests scattered about the lobby. He was a grave and thoughtful man and had seemed deeply engrossed in a magazine, but he had changed his seat for a chair within speaking distance, and Jimmie had not seen him turn a page.
Jimmie fell back a couple of steps, as a matter of precaution, but he did not weaken in his rigid resolve. "I know you, Mr. Granitch," he said; "and I know what you're doing. You might as well know you ain't foolin' nobody." "What the hell is it to you?" cried the other; but then he stopped again, and Jimmie heard him breathing hard.
Would you like that?" "Sure," said Tommy. "Sure I would. Kin I bring them all?" and off he ran with his precious flowers. In five minutes he was back, followed by Mary and Katie and Jimmie and Mike and Susan all dirty, all barefoot, and all in a hurry to see the flowers and hear the story. About this time Barbara began to feel queer inside. How could she ever keep them still?
"One creased me there," he confessed "a depity marshal that time they had a reward out for me, dead or alive." I was for details. "What did you do?" Jimmie Time stayed laconic. "Left him there that's all!" It was arid, yet somehow informing. It conveyed to me that a marshal had been cleverly put to needing a new deputy. "Burying ground?" I guessed. "That's all!"
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