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Updated: June 15, 2025
He heard steps on the dock and remained silent in the darkness, thinking that possibly some watchman was making the rounds. If he was discovered, he would say that he had been looking at the river, give the watchman his card and a tip, and leave. The steps came nearer and Prale could make out the form of a man slipping along the dock's edge in a furtive manner.
Here's my business card, my boy. And I generally put up at the Graymore." Sidney Prale took the card, thanked Rufus Shepley, and hurried down the deck toward his stateroom, one of the best on the ship. Rufus Shepley looked after him sharply. "Went straight to Honduras and stayed there for ten years, eh?" Rufus Shepley said to himself. "Um! Looks bad!
Sidney Prale hurled him backward, rushed, caught him up again in a better hold, threw him back against the building, and held him there, breathless and panting. "Another smash out of you, and I'll drop you into the river myself!" Prale said. "Suppose you take time to get your breath now." "I I thought you was a cop." "Afraid of the cops?" "It's against the law to to try to commit suicide."
"He returned day before yesterday, I believe. I saw his name in the passenger list." "Mr. Prale says that he met you last night on Fifth Avenue, and that you told him he had some powerful enemies seeking to cause him trouble, and advised him to leave New York and remain away." "Why why this is not so!" Lerton cried. "I haven't seen him until this moment.
"Somebody is making a mistake," he declared to himself, "or else it is some sort of a new advertising dodge. If I ever catch the jokesmith who is responsible for these dainty little messages, I'll tell him a thing or two." Prale turned into the restaurant and found a seat at a little table at one side of the room. The after-theater crowd was filling the place.
"All right, if you have an engagement," Prale replied. "We can get together later, I suppose. How have the years been using you? Married?" "I was I am a widower." "Sorry," said Prale. "Children?" "No not any children. I I married Mary Slade." "What?" Prale cried. He stopped, aghast.
Give me a note to that fellow Murk, for I may want him to help me. Sure he's loyal to you?" "I never saw him until last night, but I'd bank on him," said Prale. "He'll stand by us!" "Fair enough! You write that note right now, and try to get out on bail. Tell Coadley to get busy on that right away. Get out under police supervision, under guard any way but get out!"
Prale," one of the detectives told him. "Pardon me, but it is so utterly preposterous," Prale replied. "I fail to see how I can be accused of such a crime. I am not a cut-throat, and Rufus Shepley was a man I met on shipboard casually, and have seen him only once since." "You can do your talking at headquarters, Mr. Prale," the officer said. "I'll have to ask you to come along with us.
"No, but I fancy that Mr. Griffin will see me," said Prale. "I used to work for him years ago." Then he sat down to wait. Griffin would be glad to see him, he thought. Griffin was a man who always liked to see younger men get along. He would want to know how Sidney Prale got his million.
But I can wash my hands of the entire affair and try to forget you entirely and hope that there is a law of retribution that will take vengeance for me. That is all, Mr. Prale. Only please remember that, from this hour, I am not concerned with the others in this affair." She started to rise, but Prale motioned for her to retain her seat. He bent forward and looked at her searchingly.
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