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Updated: June 15, 2025
I want to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible." Sidney Prale started at the beginning and talked rapidly, setting forth all the facts, while Jim Farland sat back in his chair and watched him. Now and then he frowned as if displeased at the recital. "Well, there is something rotten," he said, when Prale had concluded his statement. "I want you to know, Sid, that I believe you.
"You advertise that fact, my boy, and there'll be girls by the regiment looking up your telephone number." "And the right one wouldn't be in the crowd," Prale said, the smile leaving his face again. "Well, you are in for a fine time, at least," Rufus Shepley told him. "There have been quite a few changes in New York in the past ten years. Yes, quite a few changes!
And, instead of telling me what it is, and giving me a chance to refute the charge or explain, you simply take the easiest course and believe my enemies. Do you call that an example of the square deal?" "Let us not talk about it further, Mr. Prale," Coadley replied. "I feel quite sure that you have a complete understanding of the situation." "But I have not!
Murk was a dog man, the sort that proves faithful to the end if treated right. "Well, how do you like me?" Prale asked. "You look good to me, sir." "My name is Sidney Prale." "Yes, Mr. Prale." "You understand our little deal thoroughly?" "Yes, sir." "Come along, then. Here is a cigar light up!" Murk lighted the cigar, and Prale lighted another, and they went rapidly up the street to Fifth Avenue.
Sidney Prale did so, and the captain of detectives made notes regarding the addresses. "That will be all for the present, Mr. Prale," he said. "I don't want to cause any innocent man annoyance, but I can tell you this much things look very bad for you!" Sidney Prale waited in an adjoining office, a detective sitting in one corner of it and watching him closely.
I knew nothing of it until I received a telephone message saying that you were spying on the place where I live, and that you had been captured and brought here." "I understand that, lady," Murk replied. "I know that you have been with Mr. Prale only a few days. If he were in your place now, I might be inclined to turn my back and let those men handle him.
Prale exclaimed, and then he tossed Shepley to one side again. "Either of you guests here?" the house detective demanded. "No? Then maybe you'd both better get out until you can cool off. If you want to stage a scrap, go down and rent Madison Square Garden and advertise in the newspapers. I wouldn't mind seeing a good fight myself. But this lobby isn't any prize ring. Get me?"
Perhaps you are one of those men whose natures are so dishonorable that you think you did nothing wrong at that time." "So it was then that I was supposed to have done this terrible thing whatever it was?" "As you know, Mr. Prale." "But I do not know, Miss Gilbert.
Many times in his life, Sidney Prale had been greatly surprised, astonished, shocked. But never had he experienced such a feeling as he did at this bald announcement of a police detective. The statement was like a blow between the eyes. Prale stared at the two detectives for an instant, his face flushed, and then he began to laugh. "It isn't a laughing matter, Mr.
"Ten years," Sidney Prale went on thoughtfully. "It seems a long time, but the years have passed swiftly." "I always had an idea," Rufus Shepley said, "that a genuine white man who went to one of those Central American countries turned bad after the first year and went to the devil generally. But you don't look it." "The idea is correct, at that, in some instances," Prale admitted.
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