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This matter of his uncle Was it possible that in pursuit of political ambitions his uncle was forgetting the principles for which he professed to stand as a public man? Was it just possible that this fellow, McCorquodale, knew what he was talking about?
He was aiming at the big Swede; but as Phil finished choking the halfbreed who had attacked him and sprang to his feet, McIvor swung his rifle. Kendrick dropped in his tracks. McCorquodale turned quickly at sound of the shot, just in time to see his leader go down. He fired from the hip and at the bark of his automatic Red McIvor pitched over sideways.
He would have given a ten-dollar bill to have met the redoubtable Mr. McCorquodale around the next corner. He thought of buying one of those pink shields; it would not hide it all, but it might help. He tried tying his handkerchief over his eye as a bandage, but felt so foolish that he tore it off and laughed at himself.
By climbing out a hall window onto the fire-escape McCorquodale had reached the flat gravelled roof and wormed himself along into a position where he could hear what transpired in the room.
"Cork, are you quite sure that this bunch is the gang Wade's after? Supposing they turn out to be a fishing party or something?" "Fishin' party me neck!" scoffed McCorquodale. "With all them cases o' the real McKay?" "Fishing is often a thirsty business for more than the fish. Anyway, you don't know for sure that it's booze " "Don't, eh?
I'll get Thorlakson to send one of his men " She interrupted him with a gesture of impatience. "The question is, Mr. Kendrick, what's happened to Jimmy Stiles?" "Yes, and what's happened to make Wade send McCorquodale up here? What's this important work he's talking about?" "If Jimmy Stiles has disappeared, it hasn't been of his own free will. I'm sure of that, Mr. Kendrick, positive!"
McCorquodale only swore as he tightened his belt and for the second time they went down the hill in long jumps that sent loose stones crashing through the brushwood. Once on the level they ran for the sounds of trouble as fast as they could make headway through impeding undergrowth.
The air had cleared wonderfully by the time Detective McCorquodale arrived with Robert Clayton in tow so much so that both anxious gentlemen were somewhat surprised at the smiles which greeted them.
"What about you, Uncle Milt?" suggested Kendrick after a brief explanation of his change of plans a recital which carefully avoided mention of McCorquodale or the mysterious woman of the fog. "If I had known that Aunt Dolly was going to be alone I wouldn't have let Thorpe persuade me to stay over a day."
"But a financier with the standing Nickleby has " "Excuse me, but y're startin' off with the wrong foot," corrected McCorquodale. "Nickleby aint no financier; he's a smooth pebble, that's all. His standin's faked an' behind it he's layin' low or I misses my best guess. If he aint a crook I never seen one." Phil was silent for a moment.
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