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Miss Sherwood, Hunt behind her, had been drawn by the sound of voices around to the side of the veranda where stood the four men. "What are you doing?" she now sharply demanded of Gavegan. "Don't like to make any unpleasant scene, Miss Sherwood, but I've gotta tell you that this so-called Brandon is a well-known crook." Gavegan enjoyed few things more than astounding people with unpleasant facts.
Larry realized that he had been shrewdly trapped, that resistance would serve no end, and the next moment handcuffs were upon his wrists. "Well, Brainard," gloated Gavegan, "we've landed you at last!" "So it seems, Gavegan." "You thought you was damned clever, but I guess you know now you ain't one, two, three!"
I shall hold you rigidly responsible for any disorder you may create or any damage you may do. Now you may go ahead." "Let's have all your keys, Brainard," Gavegan choked out. Larry handed them over. With Miss Sherwood, Hunt, and Larry looking silently on, the two men began their examination.
Except that I have seen signs which make me believe that what I figured would happen to Maggie Carlisle have begun to happen to her." "Bunk!" snorted Gavegan. "I know that part of what he says is true," put in Hunt. Miss Sherwood ignored Hunt and his remark. The look of controlled wrath which she held upon Larry did not change. Larry recognized that his statement had sounded most implausible.
Casey paused, gasping for his wind. "Only what, Casey?" "Only alibi me, Larry, by slipping over a haymaker on me like you did on Gavegan. So's I can say I tried to get you, but you were too quick and knocked me cold. Quick! Only not too hard I know how to play possum." Larry handed the pistol to Hunt. "Casey, you're a real scout! Thanks!" He grasped Casey's hand, then swiftly relaxed his grip.
Left to herself, Maggie sank into a chair and wildly considered the many elements of this new situation. Presently two thoughts emerged to dominance: Whether Larry was right or wrong, he had risked coming out of his safety for her sake perhaps had risked all he had won for her sake. And now the police were to be set after him, with that Gavegan heading the pack.
Larry remembered the scene down in Deputy Police Commissioner Barlow's office, when the Chief of Detectives had demanded that he become a stool-pigeon working under Gavegan and Casey, and the grilling and the threats, more than fulfilled, which had followed. "Going to give me a little private quiz first, Casey," he asked, "and then call in Gavegan and lead me down to Barlow?"
Barney found Gavegan exactly where he had counted: lingering over his late dinner in the cafe of a famous Broadway restaurant a favorite with some of the detectives and higher officials of the Police Department in which cafe, in happier days now deeply mourned, Gavegan had had all the exhilaration he wanted to drink at the standing invitation of the proprietor, and where even yet on occasion a bit of the old exhilaration was brought to Gavegan's table in a cup or served him in a room above to which he had had whispered instructions to retire.
And your repayment has been that, knowing all these things, you have kept silent and let me and my brother be imposed upon by a swindling operation. And who knows, since you admit that you love the girl, that you have not been a partner in the conspiracy from the first!" "That's exactly the idea, Miss!" put in Gavegan.
"Oh, I knew how clever you are, Gavegan," Larry responded dryly, "and that you'd get me sooner or later if I hung around." As a matter of fact Larry's capture, which was as unspectacular as his escape had been strenuous, was the consequence of no cleverness at all.
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