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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Night before last the ordinance numbered 45 was due to pass the council. It was arranged that when it did, Hayden, through his man Rutter, or personally, would telephone the combination of the safe to the mayor of Reuton. Cargan and Bland sat in the office watching for the flash of light at the telephone switchboard, while you and I were Max's prisoners above. Something went wrong.
I've read a lot about him, and I like his style." "You let history alone," snarled Mr. Max, across the aisle, "or it'll repeat itself and another guy I know'll go to the island." "If you mean me," returned Cargan, "forget it. There ain't no St. Helena in my future." He winked at Magee. "Lou's a little peevish this morning," he said. "Had a bad night." He busied himself with the cards. Mr.
His eyes were fiercely on the table and the two decks of cards that lay there. "And when you've finished," he pointed. "When you've finished " Mr. Cargan picked up the deck on the left. "All black," he said, "when the game comes out right." "And the other?" Kendrick persisted softly. He pointed to the remaining deck. A terrible smile of understanding drew his thin lips taut. "And the other, Mr.
So they had "got to him", after all. Who? He thought of the smooth crafty mountain of a man who had detained him a moment ago. Who but Cargan and Max, of course? They had found his childish hiding-place, and the money had come home to their eager hands. No doubt they were laughing slyly at him now. Well, he would show them yet. He got up and walked the floor.
I've seen 'em in use there then, but the idea wasn't glory and decoration." "I hope you don't dislike the candles, Mr. Cargan," remarked Miss Norton. "They add such a lot to the romance of the affair, don't you think? I'm terribly thrilled by all this.
The mayor looked coolly down into those upturned faces, he listened a moment to the rumble of a thousand throats, then he took off his derby with satiric politeness. "Glad to see one and all!" he cried. And now above the mutterings angry words could be heard, "That's him," "That's two-hundred-thousand-dollar Cargan," "How's the weather on Baldpate?" and other sarcastic flings.
"How about this?" bellowed the mayor. "Hayden's squealed. Phones to Bland not to me. Whines about the courts I don't know what rot. He's squealed. He didn't phone the combination." "The rat!" screamed Mr. Max. "By the Lord Harry," said the mayor, "I'll have it open, anyhow. I've earned what's in there, fair and I've earned it. I'm going to have it, Max." "See here, Cargan " put in Mr. Bland.
"You're rather hard on poor old Peters," remarked Magee, "but when I think that I have to get up and dress in a refrigerating plant I can't say I blame you. If only the fire were lighted " He smiled his most ingratiating smile on his companion. "By the way, Mr. Cargan, you're up and dressed. I've read a lot of magazine articles about you, and they one and all agree that you're a good fellow.
He reviewed the arrival of Bland and his babble of haberdashery, of Professor Bolton and his weird tale of peroxide blondes and suffragettes, of Miss Norton and her impossible mother, of Cargan, hater of reformers, and Lou Max, foe of suspicion.
Cargan. "That's what everybody'd like to know. He hasn't showed up. Not a sign of breakfast, and me as hollow as a reformer's victory." "He's backslid," cried Magee. "The quitter," sneered Max. "It's only a quitter would live on the mountain in a shack, anyhow."
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