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Updated: June 2, 2025
He's got Stangeist and his gang steered for the electric chair now; he put a crimp in the Weasel the other night get that? He's like a blasted wizard with what he knows. And who'll he deal the icy mitt to next? Me damn him me, for all I know!" "That's all right," observed Lannigan coolly. "I'm not questioning your sincerity for a minute; I know all about that; but that doesn't land the Gray Seal.
"Wot d'ye think it means? We want that paper, an' we want it damn quick see! D'ye think we was goin' ter stand fer havin' a trip ter Sing Sing an' the wire chair danglin' over our heads!" Stangeist closed his eyes. When he opened them again, something of the old-time craftiness was in his face. "Well, what are you going to do about it?" he inquired, almost sharply.
It he had held the secrets of Stangeist and his band, what else might he not know? Who else might not fall next? The Gray Seal had become a snitch, a menace, a source of danger that stalked among them like a ghastly spectre. Who was the Gray Seal? None knew. "Death to the Gray Seal!
The stub of an old cigar, unlighted, shifted with a sudden, savage twist of the lips from one side of Jimmie Dale's mouth to the other. There was need for haste. There was no telling when Stangeist might get back as for the servants, that did not matter so much; servants in suburban homes had a marked affinity for "last trains!"
Stangeist, the Indian chief, the lawyer whose cunning brain had stood as a rampart between the underworld and a prison cell, was himself now in the Tombs with the certainty of the electric chair before him; and with him, the same fate equally assured, were Australian Ike, The Mope, and Clarie Deane!
The proof, in Stangeist's own writing, sworn to before witnesses in the presence of a notary, the text of the document, of course, unknown to both witnesses and notary, evidence, absolute and final, that would be admitted in any court, for Stangeist was a lawyer, and would see to that, was in Stangeist's own safe, for Stangeist's own protection Stangeist, who was himself the head and brains of this murder gang Stangeist, who was the man higher up!
There was a burst of oaths from Australian Ike. "Gone! Den we're nipped de lot of us!" The Mope's face was like a maniac's as he whirled on Stangeist. "Sure!" he croaked. "But youse gets yers first, youse " With a cry, Stangeist, to elude the blow, ducked blindly backward into the portieres and with a rip and tear the hangings were wrenched apart.
The door burst open, two men rushed in and one, with a bound, flung himself at Stangeist. The man's hand, grasping a clubbed revolver, rose in the air, descended on Stangeist's head and Stangeist went down in a limp heap, crashed into the chair, and slid from the chair with a thud to the floor. There was an oath from Clarie Deane.
That last act in the drama which he had speculatively anticipated was being staged with little loss of time and in a grim sort of way the thought flashed across his mind that, perilous as his own position was, Stangeist at that moment was in even greater peril than himself.
They were lifting Stangeist up now, propping him up in the chair. Stangeist moaned, opened his eyes, stared in a dazed way at the three faces that leered into his, then dawning intelligence came, and his face, that had been white before, took on a pasty, grayish pallor. "You the three of you!" he mumbled. "What's this mean?" And then Clarie Deane laughed in a low, brutal way.
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