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Updated: May 1, 2025
Virat picked up the package again, and began to untie it and again Jimmie Dale's hand slipped into his pocket. And then, quick as the winking of an eye, as Virat's hands came together over a knot, Jimmie Dale leaned across the table, there was a click, and the steel were locked on the other's wrists. There was a scream of fury, an oath from Virat.
Virat was clever enough to find means of disposing of the bonds in some fashion or other, and too clever to have ever committed murder for them otherwise there was no doubt of that. And, after all, what difference did it make whatever Virat's method might be! It was extraneous, immaterial. Jimmie Dale shrugged his shoulders. The vital question was where were the bonds?
"You're dippy!" sneered Virat. "I haven't seen the Magpie in a month." "An' dat's what youse did it wid." Larry the Bat, as though he had not heard the other's denial, reached into his pocket, and shoved a small, murderous, bloodstained blackjack, the leather-covered piece of lead pipe that he had found beneath the washstand, suddenly across the table under Virat's eyes.
"Mabbe," murmured Larry the Bat, "youse'd know him better when he ain't dolled up." He swept the glasses from Virat's nose, and wrenched away the black moustache and goatee. "Kenleigh!" gasped Meighan. "Mabbe," said Larry the Bat, with a twisted grin, "dere's somethin' he may have fergotten ter wise youse up on, but he didn't mean ter hide nothin' in his confession did youse, Frenchy?
"I told youse once, didn't I? What do youse suppose I want! If I got ter fall fer it, I want some of dem bonds dat's what I want!" A look of relief spread over Virat's face. "All right," he said hurriedly. "I that's that's fair. I I'll get them for you." He started up from his chair, his eyes travelling instinctively toward the door. "Youse sit down!" invited Larry the Bat coldly.
"Well den, I'll help ter put youse wise. But mabbe I'd better get yer gun first, eh?" As he had done to Meighan, he removed a revolver from Virat's pocket. "T'anks!" he said. He pushed Virat with his revolver muzzle toward the table, and forced the other into a chair. He sat down opposite Virat, and smiled unpleasantly. "Now den, come across! Youse croaked de Magpie ter-night!"
As though he could not have read aright, he read again; disjointed words and phrases muttered audibly: "... Afraid not in time ... hurry ... this afternoon ... the Magpie and Virat ... Kenleigh, insurance broker ... safe in Kenleigh's house ... ground floor left ... one hundred thousand dollars ... bonds ... will try it ... Meighan of headquarters ... half-past one at Virat's ... Gray Seal ... Larry the Bat ... if dangerous, keep away ..."
"But but you said I I was going to get them," faltered Virat. "Sure!" said Larry the Bat. "Dat's de idea! An', say, I'm in a hurry. Dey ain't over dere, Frenchy try nearer home!" Virat's hands trembled as he unbuttoned his vest. He reached around under the back of his vest, drew out a flat package, and laid it on the table. He began to untie the cord.
And besides, she had said, "half-past one at Virat's," so there was time to spare. The distorted lips of Larry the Bat thinned ominously. No; it was not useless even now. He had a very strong personal interest in all that had taken place Virat would be the less likely to slip through his fingers, or through the fingers of the law, for the information that the scene of the robbery might supply!
Well, the game was of Virat's choosing and they would play it out now to the end, Virat and the Gray Seal, if it was the last act of his, Jimmie Dale's, life! It was only a question now of whether or not Virat had completed all his work, of whether there was yet time to get to Kenleigh's. It was close to midnight, as Jimmie Dale came out on Washington Square.
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