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An' mabbe dere's one or two other things in de years he's been playin' Kenleigh dat he'll tell youse about, if youse ask him nice and pleasant-like!" Larry the Bat edged around the table, and, covering Meighan with his revolver, backed to the door. "Well, so long, Meighan!" he said softly, from the threshold. "T'ink of me when dey pins de medal on yer breast fer dis!"
"I suppose you mean that you recognise it?" he ventured. "Recognize it!" Meighan laughed low, and, stepping past Kenleigh to the desk, picked up the telephone, and called Headquarters. "Recognise it!" With the receiver to his ear, waiting for his connection, he turned toward Kenleigh. "Why, say, walk over to the Bowery and show it to the first person you meet, and he'd call the turn.
Kenleigh's story meanwhile.... I'll be here till you 'phone.... Yes.... All right!" Meighan hung up the receiver, sat down in a chair, and motioned toward another that was close alongside the desk. "Turn out the light, Mr. Kenleigh," he said abruptly; "and sit down here." Kenleigh looked his amazement. "Turn out the light?" he repeated perplexedly. "Yes," Meighan nodded. "And at once, please."
"Stick to it a while longer," he rapped out; "and get La Rue and Cavendish together at their meeting-place, if you can discover it." "We can!" interjected Willis. "That's something I learned less than an hour ago. It's Steinway's Café, the place where the police picked up Frisco Danny and Mad Mike Meighan two years ago. I followed them, but could not get near enough to hear what they said."
I've got a little money, all I've been able to save in ten years' work, a few thousand. I'm ruined." "Don't talk so loud!" cautioned Meighan. He whistled low under his breath. "You're certainly up against it, Mr. Kenleigh, but you buck up! We'll get 'em. And, anyway, bonds can be traced." "These are payable to bearer," said Kenleigh numbly.
"Youse'll pardon me if I keeps de spot-light on youse," drawled Larry the Bat, "Some of youse dicks ain't trustworthy." "Look here!" Meighan burst out. "This is a hell of a note! What " "Youse shut yer face!" Jimmie Dale's voice had grown suddenly cold and menacing the stairs were creaking again, this time under a quick tread. "Listen!
"That's poor consolation for me," said Kenleigh bitterly. "Suppose some of them, or even all of them, were recovered that way in time where do I stand to-morrow morning?" "I guess that's right if the Magpie ever got a chance to hand them over to some fence," admitted Meighan.
It won't get you anywhere, and it doesn't follow because the swag is gone that we can't get it back. I know the guy that pulled this job." "You what!" Kenleigh, his face lighting up as though with a sudden hope, stepped quickly toward the detective. "What did you say? You know who did it!" "Don't get excited!" advised Meighan coolly. "Sure, I know!
He crossed to Waverly Place, and, on the point of starting along Fifth Avenue, drew suddenly back around the corner. A man, walking rapidly, was just turning into Fifth Avenue from the opposite corner. Jimmie Dale drew in his breath sharply. He had got out of sight just in time. He recognised the quick, springy walk of the other. It was Meighan, of Headquarters.
Jimmie Dale heard Meighan fumble for the receiver; and then, as the other spoke, seizing the opportunity, he began to retreat stealthily back across the hallway toward the vestibule door. "Hello!" Meighan's voice was still guarded. "Yes yes ... What!" His voice rose suddenly in a rasping cry. "What's that! Dead! Murdered! Wait a minute! Kenleigh, they've found the Magpie murdered in his room!"
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