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Updated: June 19, 2025
"That's all right," submitted Clarle Deane grimly. "There's a quarter of that minute gone." "I won't!" Stangeist flashed out violently. "That's all right," repeated Clarie Deane. "There's half of that minute gone." Jimmie Dale's eyes, in a fascinated sort of way, were on Stangeist.
Instead of Clarie Archman and J. Barca, alias Gentleman Laroque, robbing the safe of one Niccolo Sonnino, dealer in precious stones, it would be the Gray Seal if it was not already too late to forestall the others! If it was not too late! He looked at his watch. It was twenty minutes after eleven. Yes, there should be time; but, if not what then? And what of that letter? His teeth clamped.
Stangeist was no fool not the fool that he would appear to be for keeping a document like that, once he had had the temerity to execute it, in his own safe; for, in a day or two, the Tocsin had hinted at this, after holding it over the heads of Australian Ike, The Mope, and Clarie Deane again to drive the force of it a little deeper home, he would undoubtedly destroy it and the SUPPOSITION that it was still in existence would have equally the same effect on the minds of the other three!
It was Australian Ike, The Mope, and Clarie Deane that Stangeist had gathered around him, the Tocsin had said and there were none worse in Larry the Bat's wide range of acquaintanceship than those three.
Package by package, Stangeist went on jotting the amounts down on the pad. "Nix!" growled Clarie Deane suddenly. "Cut that out! Them's fivers in that wad. Make that five hundred instead of one I'm onter yer!" "Mistake," said Stangeist suavely, changing the figures with his pencil. "You're pretty wide awake for this time of night, aren't you, Clarie?" "Oh, I dunno!" responded Clarie Deane gruffly.
He reached in his hand to the pigeonhole, drew out the envelope and with a sudden, wild cry, reeled to his feet. "My God!" he screamed out. "What's what's this!" Clarie Deane snatched the envelope from him. He ripped the envelope open frantically and like a man stunned gazed at the four blank sheets, while the colour left his face. "IT'S GONE!" he cried out hoarsely. "Gone!"
We didn't intend to give you one, but we don't want to be too rough on you, so if you want to get out that way, and will agree to keep on queering your father's game if he starts it over again, all right. But you want to understand that we hold just as big a club over your father's head the other way." "White! Playing white! Oh, my God!" Clarie Archman had lurched up from the chair to his feet.
"We ain't goin' ter run away from them. If they comes before we goes, we'll fix 'em. That minute's up!" Stangeist licked his lips with his tongue. "Suppose suppose I refuse?" he said hoarsely. "You can suit yerself," said Clarie Deane, with a vicious grin. "We know the paper's there, an' we gets it before we leaves here see? You can take yer choice.
"Not so very!" Stangeist, finished with the packages, picked up the loose bills, and, with a short laugh, tossed them into the bag and followed them with the rolls of silver. He pushed the bag toward Clarie Deane. "That's a little extra for you," he said.
There was a flash in mid-air, the roar of the report went racketing through the silent house, and the revolver, spinning from the other's hands, struck against the wall across the room. And then Jimmie Dale had the boy by the shoulders, and was shaking him violently. Clarie Archman was like one stunned, numbed, and bereft of his senses. "It's all right you're clear!
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