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Arrived, in company with Senor Laroque, an intelligent Portuguese merchant, at Vista Alegre, fifteen miles above Cameta. This was the residence of Senor Antonio Ferreira Gomez, and was a fair sample of a Brazilian planter's establishment in this part of the country.
I am an old man now, but M. Goulden always said the principles of freedom and liberty would triumph, and I have lived long enough to see his words come true. Here I am, then, in the situation that Lawyer Laubépin obtained for me. I am alone at last, thank goodness, sitting in a gloomy room in this old Breton castle, in which the former steward to the Laroque family used to live.
I told you this morning I thought I knew a man who would lend you the coin, and" he laughed mockingly, and jerked his hand toward the safe "well, I led you to it, didn't I?" "I I don't understand," the boy mumbled helplessly. "Don't you!" jeered Laroque. "Well, it looks big enough for a blind man to see! We've got this robbery wished on you to a fare-thee-well!
Also, to those in the secrets of the underworld, Gentleman Laroque added to his accomplishments, or had done so before he rose to the eminence of gang leader, the profession of "box-worker" not a very clever exponent of the art, crude perhaps in his methods, but at the same time efficacious, as a dozen breaks and looted safes in the years gone by bore ample witness.
"Now I am going to run over the names of the men who are on the porch beside us three. Stand by, Mr. Hale!" With a faint twinkle, he rattled off the following: "Vasiliewski, Rochambeau, LaRoque, Goldberg, Tonti, Ross, Thomas, Fletcher. And" There was a pause, a break. The twinkle in the fine eyes was gone. The features of the three turned grave.
"She told me she was going for a ride to Elven Castle." He rode off in the direction from which I had come, and when I returned from the doctor with my broken arm set and bandaged, Marguerite and Bévallan entered. Hearing that I had had an accident, Madame Laroque came up late to-night to see me.
If murder would either further or safeguard Laroque's personal interests, Laroque was the sort of man who would stop only to consider, not whether the murder should be committed, but the method that might best be employed in order to implicate as little as possible one Laroque!
Among the whist- players was a Mlle. de Porhoet-Gael, eighty-eight years of age and full of strange crotchets. The last descendant of the noblest of Breton families, she lived, so Madame Laroque told me, on an income of forty pounds a year, her fortune having been spent in vainly fighting for the succession to a great estate in Spain. She was talking about it to her partner when I came up.
David Archman will settle with them when they face the investigation and I will settle with you! One night, a year ago, in last January, a certain Fourth Avenue bank was looted of eighteen thousand dollars do you remember, Laroque? Ah, I see you do! The police are still looking for the man who pulled that job.
He looked from one to the other, a miserable, dawning understanding in his eyes. "You you know my name?" His voice was scarcely audible. "Sure!" said Laroque and yawned insolently. "So!" purred Sonnino, in excellent English. "Is it so! A thief! The son of the so-honest Mister Attorney a thief!" "It's a lie!"
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