He rang and placed his lips to
the transmitter, calling a number. "Hello! Is this the chief of the
Blankshire police? Yes? Well, this is Haggerty. That idea I hinted
to you was a mighty good one. Prepare two strong cells and have a
doctor on hand. What? Oh, you will find your horse and carriage at
Moriarty's. Good-by!"
My money was handed over to me. I returned it to my wallet, but
without any particular enthusiasm.
"It's a bad business, William," said I.
"It's all in the game, sir,"--with a look at Haggerty that expressed
infinite hatred. "In our business we can't afford to be careless."
"Or to talk too much," supplemented his master, smiling. "Talk, my
friend, rounds me up with a bullet in the arm, and a long sojourn
behind stone walls. Never talk. Thank you, Miss Hawthorne, and you,
too, Mr. Comstalk, for the saving grace of humor. If it were possible,
I should like to give Miss Hawthorne the pick of the jewels. This is a
sordid world."
"Ye'er car-r is coming!" shouted Moriarty, running to the window.
So the girl and I passed out of Hollywood Inn, leaving Haggerty with
his mysterious prisoners. I can't reason it out, even to this day, but
I was genuinely sorry that Haggerty had arrived upon the scene.
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