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Updated: June 27, 2025


He told Meakim of it a few minutes later, and they both marvelled. "It's just as I told him, isn't it, and he wouldn't believe me. It's the place and the people. Two weeks ago he would have raged. Why, Meakim, you know Allen Winthrop Allen?

"Not the eatin' tables; the roulette tables," corrected Meakim. "Of course," he continued, grinning, "if you're fond of the game, Mr. Holcombe, it's handy having them in the same house, but I can steer you against a better one back of the French Consulate. Those at the Hotel Isabella's crooked." Holcombe stopped uncertainly. "I don't know just what to do," he said.

"You know her too, do you?" said Meakim, shaking his head sympathetically. "Well, that's all. She used to teach his sister. She seems to be a sort of fashionable " "I know," said Carroll, roughly. "She taught my sister. She teaches everybody's sister. She's the sweetest, simplest old soul that ever lived. Holcombe's dead right to be angry. She almost lived at their house when his sister was ill."

Holcombe raised his eyes and stared at him steadily. "Mr. Holcombe " the fugitive began. "Yes," replied the lawyer. Meakim shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "Good-night, sir." Holcombe's rooms were on the floor above Carroll's, and the laughter of the latter's guests and the tinkling of glasses and silver came to him as he stepped out upon his balcony. But for this the night was very still.

There's some mail for you in the office." "Thank you," said Holcombe. A few hours later Carroll was watching the roulette wheel in the gambling-hall of the Isabella when he saw Meakim come in out of the darkness, and stand staring in the doorway, blinking at the lights and mopping his face. He had been running, and was visibly excited.

Of the four commissioners, three were convicted the fourth, Patrick Meakim, with admirable foresight having fled to that country from which few criminals return, and which is vaguely set forth in the newspapers as "parts unknown." The trial had been a severe one upon the zealous Mr.

"Then what do you want with me?" the man demanded, forgetful in his terror of anything but his own safety. Holcombe turned upon him sharply. "I am not here on your account, Mr. Meakim," he said. "You need not feel the least uneasiness, and," he added, dropping his voice as he noticed that others were drawing near, "if you keep out of my way, I shall certainly keep out of yours."

Carroll crossed over to him and pushed him out into the quiet of the terrace. "What is it?" he asked. "Have you seen Holcombe?" Meakim demanded in reply. "Not since this afternoon. Why?" Meakim breathed heavily, and fanned himself with his hat. "Well, he's after Winthrop Allen, that's all," he panted. "And when he finds him there's going to be a muss. The boy's gone crazy. He's not safe." "Why?

Allen wasn't in when he went up to his room, and he's started out hunting for him, and if he don't find him I shouldn't be a bit surprised if he broke into the room and just took it." "For God's sake!" cried Carroll. "He wouldn't do that?" Meakim pulled and fingered at his heavy watch-chain and laughed doubtfully. "I don't know," he said.

And then the lapping waters beneath him and the white town at his side faded away, and he was back in the hot, crowded court-room with this man's face before him. Meakim, the fourth of the Police Commissioners, confronted him, and saw in his presence nothing but a menace to himself. Holcombe came up the last steps of the stairs, and stopped at their top.

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