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Updated: June 22, 2025
Dykeman's mere look was a call for the ambulance; Anson slumped in his chair; little old Sillsbee sat twisted away so that his face was in shadow, but the knuckles showed bone white where his hand gripped the table top.
I worried not at all over Worth; if he wanted to play hide and seek with Dykeman's spotters, he was thoroughly capable of looking after himself; but in the Skeels matter, I did then what I should have done in the first place, of course; turned the work over to subordinates and headed straight home. I reached San Francisco pretty well used up.
"Tell mother," evenly, "that I'll not bring my trouble into her house. Oh you want Ernestine and Cora? Well, get them and go." And with firm step she walked to her car. I nodded to Cummings. "Have one of Dykeman's men pick her up and hang tight," I said, and he smiled back understandingly, with, "Already done, Boyne. I want to speak to Miss Wallace if I may. Will you please see for me?"
"I should have known made it my business to learn. And Dykeman has questioned you " "He has not!" indignantly. "I don't suppose he knows Worth and I are acquainted." I could have smiled at that. There were detectives' reports in Dykeman's desk that recorded date, hour and duration of every meeting this girl had had with Worth and with myself. Besides, Cummings knew.
While I was getting out of my coat and stowing it, making a great deal of the process so as to gain time, I saw Cummings was exchanging low spoken words with the two of them. I tried to keep my mind on these men before me and why I was with them, but all the while it would be running back to the knock-out blow of seeing that girl in Dykeman's place. She was double-crossing Worth!
Rotten story like this about some lunatic buying a suitcase with a million in it would ruin any bank if it got into print." Dykeman's breath gave out. "And it's it's just the kind of story the accursed yellow press would eat up. Let it alone, Whipple. Let his damned offer alone. There's a joker in it somewhere." "There won't be any offer in about three minutes," Cummings quietly reminded them.
Nobody much in the bar; soft drinks held little interest; but in the upper halls, getting to Cummings' room, I passed more than one open door where the hip-pocket cargoes were unloading, and was even hailed by name, with invitations to come in and partake. Cummings was still up. The first word he gave me was, "Dykeman's here." "Glad of it," I said. "Bring him in. I want you both."
What's that?" cried Vandeman, a man snooping in the shrubbery outside getting more attention from him than one dodging pursuit three hundred miles away. "What do you mean, hounds?" and when he had heard the explanation of Dykeman's trailers, "I call that intolerable!" "Oh, I don't know." Worth reached over my shoulder for a cigarette. "Lose 'em whenever I like." I wasn't so certain.
I went on past her unconscious back, left her working at her loose-leaf ledgers, beside her adding machine, my mind a whirl of ugly conjecture. Dykeman's employee; that would instantly and very painfully clear up a score of perplexing questions. Dykeman would need no detectives on my trail to tell him of my lack of success in the Skeels chase. Lord!
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