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Updated: September 13, 2025
"As far as you see it," I amended. "For instance, you insist on keeping the gang all under Clayte's hat or you did at first. Now you're refusing to believe, as both Worth and I believe, that Steve Skeels is Clayte himself. I should think you'd jump at the idea. Here's your Wonder Man." She leaned back in her chair and laughed.
They talked as they lunched. I didn't pay any attention to what they said now; my mind was racing at the new idea Worth had given me. So far, I had been running Skeels down as one of the same gang with Clayte; the man on the roof; the go-between for the getaway.
"Why don't you?" Vandeman gave passing attention. She shook her head and put it. "Skeels, at liberty, was quite possibly Clayte; Skeels captured cannot be Clayte. Mr. Boyne, do you call that a paradox?" "No an unkind slam at a poor old man's ability in his profession.
He held himself down to Clayte at the St. Dunstan and in the bank, and he let himself go to what? outside of it, beyond it, where he really lived." "He let himself go to Steve Skeels won't that do you?" "No," she said so positively that it was annoying. "That won't do me at all." "But it's what you got," I reminded her rather unkindly, and then was sorry I'd done it.
I stuid up an' lookit in at the bolie winda, juist abune whaur the skeels sit, an' here was Sandy an' his cronies a' busy crackin' an' smokin', an enjoyin' themselves i' the middle o' a great steer o' reek an' noise. Juist as I lookit in, Bandy Wobster said something to Dauvid Kenawee, an' Dauvid raise, an' takin' his pipe oot o' his moo, says, "Order! I pirpose Mester Wobster to the chair."
And for the next few minutes I was making words mean something, drawing a picture of the Skeels I knew, so that others could visualize him. And it brought me a word of commendation from Miss Wallace, and made Worth exclaim, "Sounds more like Clayte than Clayte himself. You've put flesh on those bones, Jerry." "You keep busy at that phone and help land him," I growled.
Or if you haven't got room enough, and I'll be in the way, why, I'll get in Mr. Skeels' canoe again, and give you an exhibition of wabbling." He looked dismally toward the canoe, which we now had in tow behind the tender. We all told the castaway that we would be glad to have him stay with us.
"Stock in your old suitcase has gone up a notch, Worth. We've caught Skeels." "So soon?" was all he said. But my news seemed to decide something for him; with a sharp gesture of finality, he put into his breast pocket the package of papers he had been looking at. When a little later, Edwards came in, Worth was waiting for him in the hall. "Do we go now?" the older man asked, wincing. Worth nodded.
But Louie the overalled, piloting us the first stage of our journey in a racketty old elevator that he seemed to pull up by a cable, so slow it was, grumbled an assent to the same question when it was put to him, and confirmed my belief that Skeels came into the hotel as soon as it was rebuilt, and had kept the same room ever since.
You get into and out of Ensenada by steamboat only, except back to the mines on foot or donkey. The two days I had to wait over in San Diego for the boat which would follow the one Skeels had taken were a mighty uneasy time. If I'd imagined for a moment that he wasn't on the dodge that he was there openly I'd have wired the Mexican authorities, and had him waiting for me in jail.
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