United States or Suriname ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Yes, in time, suspicious of Smarlinghue's continued absence, they would investigate and search the Sanctuary here; they might even discover that hiding place in the wall but what did it matter? They would find only the trappings of a character that had passed out of existence; and out of that fact the police and the underworld would be privileged to make what capital they could!
"Don't make the mistake of taking me for a fool. I'm not buying any ten-cent art treasures at ten dollars a throw!" Smarlinghue's eyes remained greedily riveted on the ten-dollar note. He began to twine his hands together once more. "I don't know what you mean," he muttered tremulously. "Don't you!" retorted the other shortly. "Well, I mean exactly what I say.
Cowed, Smarlinghue's voice dropped to a mumble, and he let the torn canvas slip from his fingers to the floor. Clancy laughed gruffly, pulled another chair to the opposite side of the table, sat down himself, and eyed Smarlinghue coldly for a moment. "Sold it, eh?" he observed grimly. "How much were you going to get for it?" A cunning gleam flashed in Smarlinghue's eyes and vanished instantly.
He reached the tenement where, for months now, that ground floor room, opening on the small and dirty courtyard in the rear, had been his refuge, Smarlinghue's home in the underworld, glanced quickly up and down the street to assure himself that he was not observed, then, darting into the dark hallway, he crossed it silently, unlocked the Sanctuary door, stepped through, and closed and locked the door behind him.
Coming across? Quick now! I haven't got all night to spend here!" Smarlinghue's hands were trembling violently; he sat down in his chair in a pitiful, uncertain way. "Yes, yes!" he whispered. "Yes! I got to do it. I'll do it, Mr. Clancy, I'll do it! I'll I'll do anything!" A half leer, half scowl was on Clancy's face, as he stood regarding the other. "I thought you would!" he grunted roughly.
Word Of The Day