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"You see, young lady," he went on with a gentleness of voice and manner that would have been inconceivable to Dacey and Chicago Red; "you see, the fact is that, even if you were introduced to this Mary Turner by young Mr. Gilder, this same Mary Turner herself is an ex-convict, and she's just been arrested for murder." At the dread word, a startling change was wrought in the girl.
"No doubt Dacey can tell you that too," remarked Stepney, with an ironic intention which the other received with the light murmur, "I can at least FIND OUT, my dear fellow"; and Mrs. Bry having declared that she couldn't walk another step, the party hailed two or three of the light phaetons which hover attentively on the confines of the gardens, and rattled off in procession toward the Condamine.
Bry contemptuously. "Can they cook terrapin? It just shows," he continued, "what these European markets are, when a fellow can make a reputation cooking peas!" Jack Stepney intervened with authority. "I don't know that I quite agree with Dacey: there's a little hole in Paris, off the Quai Voltaire but in any case, I can't advise the Condamine GARGOTE; at least not with ladies."
On account of his being the old man's son, I'm a little cramped in my style." It was, in truth, one thing to browbeat and assault a convict like Dacey or Chicago Red, but quite another to employ the like violence against a youth of Dick Gilder's position in the world.
Demarest permitted himself a sneer born of legal knowledge. "Griggs is dead, Burke. You're up against it. You can't prove that Garson, or Chicago Red, or Dacey, ever entered that house." The Inspector scowled over this positive statement. "But Griggs said they were going to," he argued. "I know," Demarest agreed, with an exasperating air of shrewdness; "but Griggs is dead.
The child lifted his little sorrowful face to his grandfather's, and tried to smile as he made room for him in the warmest place. "What's the matter, Davie?" "I have had a bad day, grandfather. I did not sell my papers, and Jack Dacey gave me a beating besides; and and I really do think my toes are frozen off." Then Davie pulled the lad on to his knee, and whispered
That fine old lady herself was worth driving ten miles to see, any day; her beauty, her well-preserved faculties, and her old-fashioned dignity made her a graceful subject for conversation in turn with the King's health, the sweet new patterns in cotton dresses, the news from Egypt, and Lord Dacey's lawsuit, which was fretting poor Lady Dacey to death.
"Come on, Mary," he cried. Already Chicago Red had snapped off the lights of the chandelier, had sprung to the window, thrown open a panel of it, and had vanished into the night, with Dacey at his heels. As Garson would have called out to the girl again in mad anxiety for haste, he was interrupted by Dick: "She couldn't make it, Garson," he declared coolly and resolutely. "You go.
He turned to the men and spoke with swift authority. "Come," he said to Dacey, "you get to the light switch there by the hall door. If you hear me snap my fingers, turn 'em off. Understand?" With instant obedience, the man addressed went to his station by the hall door, and stood ready to control the electric current. The distracted girl essayed one last plea.
"Now, I'll get " "Get nothing!" Garson interrupted. "I'll get my own men. Chicago Red is in town. So is Dacey, with perhaps a couple of others of the right sort. I'll get them to meet you at Blinkey's at two to-morrow afternoon, and, if it looks right, we'll turn the trick to-morrow night." "That's the stuff," Griggs agreed, greatly pleased. But a sudden shadow fell on the face of Garson.
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