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Updated: May 4, 2025
The Flopper's eyes caught the brass buttons of the officer returning on his beat, and his face was white with an inhuman passion, as, clutching a portion of what was left in the hat, he lifted his hand from the rest. "Thanks!" grinned the chauffeur, snatching at the remainder. "'Tain't half, but it'll do" and he hurried across the sidewalk, and disappeared inside a saloon.
This is Black Ike's famous Auditorium, the scene of last week's sensational triple murder! Please remember that there is no charge for admission to patrons of the company. Just show your coupons, ladies and gentlemen, and walk right ahead." The passengers began to pour from the long seats to the ground. The Flopper's hat was in his hand.
Over the cries, the wailings, the confused medley of voices, growing lower now, subsiding, there had come the throb of a motor car. Madison's eyes narrowed that was supreme again. A car was coming to a stop before the porch Thornton was helping Helena to alight. Madison turned and caught the Flopper's arm in a fierce, imperative grasp.
In the crowd, Madison rubbed shoulders for a moment with Pale Face Harry. "Who's the party with the wheel-chair behind?" he asked. "Millionaire Chicago private car Flopper's got the wife going hard rode down with them," coughed Pale Face Harry behind his hand. "I guess I'll get acquainted," said Madison. "Circulate, Harry, and cough your head off don't hide your light under a bushel circulate."
At moments most unexpected, as now when motoring with Thornton in the car that he had brought back with him on, his return to Needley, when laughing at the Flopper's determined pursuit of Mamie Rodgers, when engaged in the homely, practical details of housekeeping about the cottage, there came flashing suddenly upon her the picture of Mrs.
The Flopper's thumb and forefinger scratched desperately for a moment, then his face lighted with inspiration. "Swipe me!" said he excitedly. "I got it Jimmy de Squirm." Doc Madison shook his head gravely. "No, Flopper, I'm afraid not," he said gently. "That's another weak point in your interpretation of the rôle, that I'll come to in a minute.
"Beat it!" rasped the officer roughly, "or I'll hullo, what you got here? Open your hand!" he gave a sharp twist as he spoke, the Flopper's fingers uncurled, and the money dropped into the policeman's other hand held conveniently below the Flopper's. "It's mine gimme it back," whined the Flopper. "Yours! Yours, is it!" growled the officer. "Where'd you get it? Stole it, eh?
Came then the sound of footsteps and from the hall the Flopper's face peered cautiously around the jamb of the door. "Tell Helena to come here," called Madison softly. The Flopper turned his head, called obediently, and in a dazed sort of way came himself to the window. His face was haggard, and he shivered as he licked his lips.
"You keep your mouth shut do you hear?" he flung out, clipping off his words. "You haven't seen me to-day understand!" And, dropping the Flopper's arm, he stepped quickly across the little hall to Helena's door, opened it, went in and closed the door behind him. And the Flopper, staring, licked his lips again. "Swipe me!" he croaked hoarsely. "Pipe de eyes on de Doc!
But she did not come in instead, he heard her go into the Patriarch's room, heard her talking to the Patriarch, and bid the Flopper go to the kitchen and make her some tea. Then the Flopper's step sounded, passing down to the rear, of the cottage. The minutes passed then that light footfall again.
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