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Now as from force of long habit he peered out of the doorway before making his exit; he looked like one of the John Sargent's prophets gone a little madder than usual a Jeremiah or a Habakkuk. "Hello, Doc!" called Murtha in hearty, friendly tones. "Hie spy! Come on out!" "Oh, how d'ye do, captain!" responded Doc. "How are you? I was just interviewing my solicitor." "Sorry," said Murtha.
Still, the lightning swiftness of Carton's attack had taken their breath away, temporarily, at least. Already he had started proceedings to disbar Kahn, as well as to prosecute him in the courts. According to the reports that came to us Murtha himself seemed dazed at the blow that had fallen. Some of our informants asserted that he was drinking heavily; others denied it.
He need not come out of his hiding place and I would agree to let him go where and when he pleased without further pursuit from me, if he would let me install a telautograph in a neutral place which he could select and the other end in this laboratory. I myself do not know where the other place is. Only a mechanic sworn to secrecy knows and neither Murtha nor myself know him.
"Hello, Murtha," said Trencher steadily enough, "what's the idea?" "The idea is for you to stand right where you are without making any breaks until I get through frisking you," said Murtha. On noiseless feet he stepped across the floor, Trencher's back being still to him, and one of his hands, the left one, with deft movements shifted about over Trencher's trunk, searching for a weapon.
In the face of what had happened, one felt that much might be forgiven Murtha for his shortcomings, especially as the era of the Murthas and Dorgans was plainly passing. I wonder what he really knew about it what secrets he carried away with him?" "I can't say," I returned. "But, one thing it does. It must relieve Mrs. Ogleby's fears a bit.
But just to show you that I'm on the square with you, I don't mind telling you that I got her away." It was dramatic, the off-hand way in which the gangster told of this mystery that had perplexed us. "Got her away how where?" demanded Carton fiercely. "Mr Murtha gave me some money a wad. I don't know who gave it to him, but it wasn't his money.
It was a pretty good object lesson on the power of the system which the organization had built up, how Murtha, and even the more distant Dorgan himself, had endeared himself to his followers and henchmen. Perhaps it was corrupt, but it was at least human, and that was a great deal in a world full of inhumanities.
I could not help reflecting on the strange vicissitudes of human life, and death, which levelled all distinctions between men of high and low degree. Murtha had almost literally sprung from the streets. His career had been one possible only in the social and political conditions of his times.
There was a subdued clicking of steel mechanisms. "Now then," said Murtha, falling back a pace or two, "I guess you can turn round if you want to." Trencher turned round. He glanced at his hands, held in enforced companionship by the short chain of the handcuffs, and then steadily at his captor. "Why so fussy, Murtha?" he asked in a slightly contemptuous tone.
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