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Updated: May 24, 2025
The tall man turned and re-entered his house, closing the door again behind him, while Pennold scuttled away, without a farewell glance.
"Knowing, too, that the message came from Walter Pennold, we can safely assume that -en is Pen. Use your common sense alone, now, and you will find that the message reads: 'Dear old boy. Big money coming to you from old score left unpaid. What is my share for collecting for you? No risk. Will call on you Thursday at four. Pen. "The word risk was misspelled risl.
Pennold rose slowly and looked at his visitor with swiftly narrowed eyes. There was a new note in the young man's voice which the other vaguely recognized; it was as if a lantern had suddenly flashed into his face from the darkness, or an authoritative hand been laid upon his shoulder.
You can depend on it: the outfit was there for some more practical purpose. You say Paddington has not appeared in the neighborhood, but another man has a man Brunell's daughter seems to dislike and fear?" "Yes, sir. There's one significant fact about him, too his name. He's Charley Pennold.
Only the tightening of her hands upon her husband's shoulders, until her bony knuckles showed white through the drawn skin, betrayed the storm of emotion which swept over her, at the memories evoked by the broken words. "I'm not asking you to snitch, Pennold," Morrow said, not unkindly.
"I firmly believe that there are many more young boys and men in our prisons, who should in reality be in hospitals, or in sheltering, uplifting, sympathetic hands, than there are criminals unpunished. And you, with your broadly, professionally charitable point of view, Doctor," he added with keen enjoyment, "will, I am convinced, be delighted to know that Charley Pennold is doing splendidly.
Pennold hunched over the table, and continued eagerly: "Mame kept him clean an' fed, an' we sent him to public school, just like any other kid. But it wasn't no use. He had it in him to go wrong, without the wit to get away with it. He was caught pinchin' lead piping when he was sixteen, an' sent to Elmira for three years. Them three years was his finish.
He'd learned in the pen' to make maps, an' he opened a little shop an' made up his mind to live straight, an' an' so far as I know, he has." Pennold faltered, as if from weakness, and for a moment his voice ceased.
It didn't occur to me for some time after Miss Brunell let that slip, that the name is the same as that of the precious pair of old crooks over in Brooklyn, the ones Suraci and I traced Brunell by." "Charley Pennold!" Blaine repeated thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought of him. He's old Walter Pennold's nephew. The boy was running straight the last I heard of him, but you never can tell.
Mame Pennold, who had been hovering in the background, came forward now and faced him across the table, her shrewd eyes fastened upon him. "Must have easy hours, when you can get off in the morning like this?" she observed. "Didn't forget your old friends, did you?" "No, of course not. I hadn't anything more important to do this morning, so I thought I'd drop in and see you both."
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