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Updated: June 6, 2025
McCrasky called on the chief of police, and introduced himself as the local editor of the Argus. "Oh," said the chief, "has Gorman gone, then?" "I don't know about Gorman," said McCrasky; "the man I succeeded was Finnigan. I believe he is in Cincinnati now." When the chief learned the purport of the local editor's visit he became very official and somewhat taciturn.
He had expected fierce oaths and the drawing of revolvers. "Here, Mellish," said the innocent Hammerly, "let me introduce you to the new local editor of the Argus. I didn't catch your name," he said in a whisper. "My name's McCrasky." "Mr. McCrasky; Mr. Mellish. Mellish is proprietor here and you'll find him a first-rate fellow."
He seemed to be in favor rather of regulating, than of attempting the impossible; still, if McCrasky brought him undoubted evidence that a gambling house was in operation, he would consider it his duty to make a raid on it.
McCrasky, unaccustomed to the sight, was somewhat bewildered with the rapidity of the play. There was a sort of semicircular table, around the outside rim of which were sitting as many men as could be comfortably placed there. A man at the inside of the table handled the cards. He flicked out one to each player, face downward, with an expertness and speed that dazzled McCrasky.
"Now, Thompson," said McCrasky, "you as criminal reporter must know a lot of men who can give you particulars for a first-rate article on the evils of gambling. Get it ready for Saturday's paper a column and a half, with scare heads. We must work up public opinion."
I never looked for such ill luck as promotion. But we all have our troubles, haven't we, Mac?" McCrasky did not answer. He is now connected with some paper in Texas. George Streeter was in Paris, because he hoped and expected to meet Alfred Davison there.
The detachment of police drew up in front of the place a few minutes before 2 o'clock. The streets were deserted, and so silent were the blue coats that the footsteps of a belated wayfarer sounded sharply in the night air from the stone pavement of a distant avenue. "Are you sure," said McCrasky to the man in charge of the police, "that there is not a private entrance somewhere?"
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