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With the agility of a boy he sprang into his clothes, raced downstairs, and leaped into Mayor Poundstone's jitney, standing in the darkness at the front gate.
He was with Poundstone until 4:59, when he returned leisurely to the Hotel Sequoia, carrying a small leather grip. He also had this grip when he entered Poundstone's office. Arrived at the hotel at 5:03 and went to his room. At 6:45 he entered a public automobile in front of the hotel and was driven to No. 846 Elm Street.
And she had entered upon a campaign of nagging and complaint; hoping to wear Poundstone's resistance down to the point where he would be willing to barter his hope of salvation in return for a guarantee of peace on earth. "I feel like a perfect fool, calling upon these people in this filthy little rattletrap," Mrs.
"You've stolen my engine," Pennington almost screamed. "I'll have the law on you for grand larceny." "Tut-tut! You don't know who stole your engine. For all you know, your own engine-crew may have run it down here." "I'll attend to you, sir," Pennington replied, and he turned to enter Mayor Poundstone's little flivver. "Not to-night, at least," Bryce retorted gently.
It's worth twenty-five hundred dollars, at least, and since old Poundstone's finances will not permit such an extravagance, I'm wondering how Pennington expects him to pay for it. I smell a rat as big as a kangaroo. In this case two and two don't make four. They make six! Guess I'll build a fire under old Poundstone." He took down the telephone-receiver and called up the Mayor.
Hence Ogilvy's visit to Mayor Poundstone doubtless on the advice of Bryce Cardigan. Hence, also, his visit to young Henry Poundstone, whom he had doubtless engaged as his legal representative in order to ingratiate himself with the young man's father. Coarse work! Ogilvy had carried a small leather bag to and from Henry Poundstone's office. That bag was readily explained.
At a moment when young Henry Poundstone's dream of legal opulence was fading, when Mayor Poundstone's hopes for domestic peace had been shattered beyond repair, the while his cheap political aspirations had been equally devastated because of a certain damnable document in the possession of Bryce Cardigan, many events of importance were transpiring.
He recalled the report of his private detective and the incident of Ogilvy's visit to young Henry Poundstone's office with a small leather bag; he was more than ever convinced that this bag had contained the bribe, in gold coin, which had been productive of that temporary franchise and the verbal understanding for its possible extension.
Buck Ogilvy extended his hand in benediction and let it drop lightly on Henry Poundstone's thin shoulder. Henry quivered with anticipation under that gentle accolade and swallowed his heart while the great Ogilvy made a portentous announcement. "My dear Poundstone," he said earnestly, "I am not a man to forget clever work. At the proper time I shall " He smiled his radiant smile.
When the manager came on the line, Ogilvy dictated to him a message which he instructed the manager to telegraph back to him at the Hotel Sequoia one hour later; this mysterious detail attended to, he continued on to the Mayor's office in the city hall. Mayor Poundstone's bushy eyebrows arched with interest when his secretary laid upon his desk the card of Mr.
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