United States or Lesotho ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
It was clever, as he presented it, with scarcely a reference to the name of Murtha, the beneficiary of such tactics as though, perhaps, Murtha's case was in his mind separate and would be attended to later when his turn came. Rapidly, concisely, convincingly, Carton presented the facts. Now and then Kahn would rise to object to something as incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial.
I could see that Carton was making a mental note that the practice would be ended as far as his office was concerned. "So you saw the story in the newspapers about Mr. Murtha," repeated the keeper, not displeased to see us and at the publicity it gave him.
You can imagine how I felt when I found there was only one voice with which it corresponded, and that man was supposed to be dead. Something more than intuition as I looked at the body that night had roused my suspicions. Now they were confirmed. Fancy how that information must have burned in my mind, during these days while I knew that Murtha was alive, but could say nothing!"
That was the time when Murtha, that crafty old Central-Office hand, had picked him up on general principles, had taken him to headquarters, and first stripping him of all the belongings on his person, had carried him to the Bertillon Bureau, and then and there, without shadow of legal right, since Trencher was neither formally accused of nor formally indicted for any offence and had no previous record of convictions, had forced him to undergo the ordeals, ethically so repugnant to the instincts of the professional thief, of being measured and finger-printed and photographed, side face and full face.
Kennedy shook his head, but did not venture a reply to the question that was in his own mind. Had she, too, surmised that Murtha had employed his henchman, Dopey Jack, to recover the book from Langhorne? Had she feared that Dopey Jack might in some moment of heat, for revenge, drop some hint of the robbery whether it had been really successful or not?
"Then you haven't heard it?" asked Carton excitedly, without waiting for Craig's answer. "Murtha has been committed to a sanitarium." Kennedy and I stared at him. "Pat Murtha," ejaculated Craig, "in a sanitarium?" "Exactly. Paresis they say absolutely irresponsible."
Murtha had had no family. There had been plenty of scandal about him, but as far as I knew there was no one except his old cronies in the organization to be shocked by his loss, no living tragedy left in the wake of this. "How do you suppose it happened?" I asked the night keeper. He shook his head doubtfully. "No one knows, of course," he replied slowly.
"Yes," prompted Carton, "and what then what did you do with it?" "Gave it to Mr. Murtha, of course," came back the matter-of-fact answer of the young tough. "What did he do with it?" demanded Carton. Dopey Jack shook his head dubiously. "It ain't no use trying to kid you, Mr. Carton. If I told you a fake you'd find it out. I'd tell you what he did, if I knew, but I don't on the level.
"By the way," he said in a low voice, leaning over toward her, "have you heard that those pictures of her were faked? It was really Dorgan, and some crook photographer cut out his face and substituted Carton's. Ogleby's misadventures as well as a lot of much more important things. We got it from Mr. Murtha and " "Mr. Murtha?" she inquired, in surprise.
Good heavens it is bad enough as it is to think that my name may be dragged into politics and all sorts of false stories set in motion about me. You must protect me, Mr. Carton, you must." "How did you find out about the detectaphone being there?" asked Kennedy. "Why," she replied evasively, "I thought it was just an ordinary little social dinner. That's what Mr. Murtha told me it was.
Word Of The Day