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Updated: June 20, 2025
"Don't you know me, Sid?" "Can't say that I do!" "Why, I'm your cousin, George Lerton. I'm the only relative you've got in the world, unless you got married while you were away." Prale stepped aside so that the nearest light flashed on the face of the man before him. "Well, if it isn't!" he said. "Didn't recognize you at first. How long have you been wearing the alfalfa on your face?"
What interested Detective Jim Farland the most was that Kate Gilbert was standing before the show window of a fashionable shop in intimate conversation with George Lerton, Sidney Prale's cousin! Farland started moving slowly toward them, making his way through the crowd in such fashion that he did not attract too much attention to himself. He was feeling a sudden interest in this case.
He hurled George Lerton away from him, curled his lips in scorn of the man. "I've tried to warn you," Lerton whimpered. "I don't understand this and I'm sure you could explain a lot, if you would. Perhaps I've got more dollars than the customers you are so afraid of losing. Suppose I hand my million to you for investment. Will you talk, then?" "I I wouldn't dare touch it," Lerton whimpered.
"You look like a madman!" Lerton said. "Why on earth are you looking at me like that? You look as if you were ill " The expression in Farland's face made him stop, and he appeared to be a bit disconcerted. "Why did you kill Rufus Shepley?" Jim Farland demanded suddenly in a voice that seemed to sting. Lerton's face went white for an instant. His jaw dropped and his eyes bulged.
There were great possibilities in the fact that two persons connected with it from different angles were in conversation. As he made his way toward the show window, he remembered how this George Lerton had tried to induce Sidney Prale to leave the city and remain away, and how, afterward, he had denied that he had seen Prale on Fifth Avenue and had spoken to him.
Farland decided that he would give Lerton a chance to attend to the morning mail and pressing matters of business, before seeking an interview. Finally, Farland threw the stub of the cigar away, turned into the entrance of the building once more, and walked briskly to the elevator. He shot up to the tenth floor, went down the hall, and entered the reception room of the Lerton offices.
"You're going to open your mouth and tell me what you mean, if I have to manhandle you." "You can beat me until I'm unconscious, Sid, but you can't make me talk!" Lerton told him. "But what does it all mean?" "You'd better go away, Sid; you'd better get out of the country and stay out!" "No reason why I should. I never gave up my citizenship; I haven't done anything wrong.
I never did have any too much love for you, and you can wager that I'm not going to let you frighten me into running away from New York! Talk!" "I haven't anything more to say, Sid!" "If I have to choke it out of you right here " "You'd better not. It would give your enemies a chance!" "Lerton, I've fought the Honduras jungles!
His brain was in a tumult. What did George Lerton know that he refused to tell? Why should there be powerful enemies? He knew of no reason in the world. "He's dead eager to get me out of town," Prale mused. "There's something behind it, all right." Instinct, intuition, or some similar faculty caused Prale to turn off the Avenue eastward toward the river. He was not angry now.
Farland was a few feet behind him, and got into the same car when Lerton caught a downtown train. He followed when Lerton got off and went up to the street level again, and now the broker made his way through the throngs and along the narrow streets until he finally came to the financial district.
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