Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 5, 2025
While he talked, the eyes of Lou Max looked out at him from behind the incongruous gold-rimmed glasses, with the devotion of the dog to its master clearly written in them. Mr. Magee had read many articles about this picturesque Cargan who had fought his way with his fists to the position of practical dictator in the city of Reuton.
Max he could quickly dispose of, he felt; Cargan would require time and attention. He hurried round to the front door of the inn, and taking the big key from his pocket, unlocked it as a means of retreat where the men he was about to attack could not follow. Already he heard their muffled steps in the distance.
"I don't like the looks of things," came Bland's hoarse complaint from below. "What time is it?" "Seven-thirty." Cargan answered. "A good half-hour yet." "There was somebody on the second floor when I went up," Bland continued. "I saw him run into one of the rooms and lock the door." "I've got charge now," the mayor reassured him, "don't you worry." "There's something doing."
His tone was that of one correcting a child. He took Mr. Magee's arm in a grip which recalled to that gentleman a fact the muckraking stories always dwelt on how this Cargan had, in the old days, "put away his man" in many shady corners of a great city. "Come over here," said Cargan. He led the way to a window. Over his shoulder Magee noted the troubled eyes of Miss Norton following. "Sit down.
It may mean the discovery of a serum it may mean so cruel a thing as the blighting of another's life romance." She gazed steadily at the stolid Cargan. "It may mean putting an end forever to those picturesque parades past the window of the little room on Main Street the room where the boys can always find the mayor of Reuton." Still she gazed steadily into Cargan's eyes.
"Translated, a guy who had bumped into a cyclone and was sitting tight waiting for it to blow over. I I took a fancy to her, as you might put it. She wanted the money. I got it for her." "A pretty fairy story, my boy," the mayor commented. "Absolutely true," smiled Magee. "What do you think of that for an explanation, Lou," inquired Cargan, "she asked him for the money and he gave it to her?" Mr.
Andy Rutter, manager of Baldpate Inn for the last few summers, is in some way mixed up in the Suburban. It was he who suggested to Hayden that an absolutely secluded spot for passing this large sum of money would be the inn. The idea appealed to Hayden. Cargan tried to laugh him out of it.
"Keep out of the way, you," cried Cargan. "And put away that pop-gun before you get hurt. I'm going to have what's mine by justice. That safe comes open to-night. Max, get your satchel." Mr. Magee and the professor turned and ascended to the second floor. In front of number seven they paused and looked into each other's eyes. Professor Bolton shrugged his shoulders.
Cargan, "ain't worth much except as an excuse for a man that hasn't made good to give his wife. How much did you say you was going to get for this article?" Mr. Magee looked him coolly in the eye. "If it's ever written," he said, "it will be a two-hundred-thousand-dollar story." "There ain't anything like that in it for you," replied the mayor. "Think over what I've told you."
Has that gone out of style up on the avenue, where you live?" "There are conditions " began Hayden. "The hell there are!" roared Cargan. "A man's word's his word, and he keeps it to me, or I know the reason why. You can't come down to the City Hall with any new deal like this. I was to have two hundred thousand. Why didn't I get it?"
Word Of The Day
Others Looking