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"Done wid it!" echoed the Magpie, with a short laugh. "Wot do youse t'ink! He's been luggin' it home to his swell joint up dere on de avenoo, an' crammin' his safe full of it." Larry the Bat sucked in his breath. "Gee, dat's soft!" he murmured, and then suddenly, as though with painful inspiration: "Say, Slimmy say, are youse sure youse ain't been handed a steer?" The Magpie grinned wickedly.
He slipped it quickly over his face. Birdie Lee was at work once more. It was about time to play his own hand in the game. The Tocsin had made no mistake, he was sure of that now, and Birdie Lee spoke again. "It's no use, Slimmy!" he muttered. "I guess I ain't any good any more. I can't open the damned thing!" "Try it again!" ordered Slimmy Jack shortly.
The Tocsin, evidently not quite certain of her part, wet the pencil doubtfully on the end of her tongue. "I ain't never drawed plans," she said anxiously. "Mabbe" she glanced at Jimmie Dale "mabbe I dunno how to do it RIGHT." "Aw, go ahead!" nodded Larry the Bat. "Youse can do it right, Mag. Youse don't have to make no oil paintin'! All de Magpie wants is de doors an' windows, eh, Slimmy?"
"Aw, dat's all right, Slimmy!" Larry the Bat cut in airily. "If youse ferget anyt'ing when youse get in dere, youse can ask me. I got it cinched!" The Magpie folded the paper and stowed it carefully away in his pocket. "Ask youse, eh!" he grunted sarcastically. "An' where do youse t'ink youse'll be about dat time?" "In dere wid youse, of course," replied Larry the Bat promptly.
"Well, dere youse are; but youse can take it from me, Larry, dat if youse gets whiffed" he swore threateningly "I'll crack every bone in yer face! Get me?" "Slimmy," said Larry the Bat fervently, grabbing at the bill with a hungry hand, "youse can count on me. I'll be up dere on de job before youse are. Three o'clock, eh? Well, so long, Slimmy" he slouched eagerly to the door.
"But it's no use, I tell you!" retorted Birdie Lee. "I ain't got the feel in my fingers." "You try it again!" There was a cold, ominous ring in Slimmy Jack's voice. Birdie Lee drew back a little on his knees, glancing quickly up at the other. "What what d'ye mean by that, Slimmy!" he exclaimed in a startled way.
"I'll show you what I mean, and I'll show you blamed quick if you don't open that safe!" Slimmy Jack threatened hoarsely. "Blast you, you're stalling on me that's what you're doing! I've seen you work before. You could open that thing with your finger nails, if you wanted to! Now, open it!" "But, I can't!" protested Birdie Lee. "I wouldn't hand you anything like that, Slimmy you know that, Slimmy.
Me and Slimmy used to work together all the time in Chicago and out West after I left New York, and until I came back here one day and pulled one alone and got sent up for it. Well, to-day, when they let me out of Sing Sing, Slimmy had come on from Chicago and was waitin' for me.
Still Birdie Lee hesitated; then catching Jimmie Dale's hand, he wrung it hard and, with a half choked sob, turned and made his way from the room. For an instant Jimmie Dale stood looking after the other through the darkness, listening as the stealthy steps descended the stairs then suddenly he knelt again beside the dead man on the floor. "You were clever, Slimmy!" he murmured.
I might just as well have opened it for Slimmy as for you. It looks as though you were after the same thing he was." Jimmie Dale smiled. "Stand a little away from the safe, Birdie there," he instructed. And, as the other obeyed wonderingly, Jimmie Dale knelt to the dial. "You see, I trust you not to move," he said.
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