Children of the Whirlwind [127]
with putting this across!"
It was Joe Ellison who replied. "Larry Brainard has had everything to do with putting this across. He's been beating you all the time from the very beginning, though you may not have known it. And though he's seemed to be out of things for the last few hours, he's been the actual power behind everything that's happened up to this minute. So don't fool yourself--Larry Brainard has beaten you out at every point!"
A sense of triumph glowed within Larry at this. There had been a time when he had wanted the animal satisfaction which would have come from his giving violent physical punishment to these two--particularly to Barney. But he had no desire now for such empty vengeance.
"Well, I guess you've got nothing on me," Barney growled at them, "so I'll be moving along. Better come, too, Jimmie."
While he spoke a figure had moved from Larry's closet with the silence of a swift shadow. It's thin hand gripped Barney's shoulder.
"I guess _I've_ got something on you!" it said.
Barney whirled. "Red Hannigan!" he gasped.
"Yes, Red Hannigan!--you stool--you squealer!" said Red Hannigan. "I heard you brag about being Barlow's stool, and I heard everything else you bragged about to Joe Ellison's girl. I'd bump you off right now if I had my gat with me and if I had any chance at a get-away. But I'll be looking after you, and the gang will be looking after you, till you die--the same as you set us after Larry Brainard! No matter what else happens to you, you'll always have that as something extra waiting for you! And when the time comes, we'll get you!"
As silently as he had appeared from the closet, as silently he let himself out of the room. The glowering features of Barney had faded to a pasty white while Hannigan had spoken, and now the hand which tried to bring a handkerchief to his lips shook so that he could hardly find his face. For none knew so well as Barney Palmer how inescapable was this thing which would be hanging over him until the end of his days.
Before any one in the room could speak there came a loud pounding from within the door of the closet Larry and Red Hannigan had not occupied. "Oh, I'd completely forgotten!" exclaimed Maggie--and indeed she had forgotten all that was not immediately connected with the situation created by her father's unexpected entrance. She crossed and unlocked the door, and Barlow stepped out.
"Chief Barlow!" exclaimed the astonished Larry, and all the other men gazed at the Chief of Detectives with an equal surprise.
"He is part of my frame-up," Maggie explained at large. "I wanted both the police and Larry's old friends to know the truth at first hand-- and clear him before I went away."
"Wasn't that Red Hannigan who just spoke?" were Barlow's first words.
"Yes," said Larry.
Barney, and Old Jimmie as well, had perked up at the appearance of Barlow, as though at aid which had come just in time. But Barlow turned upon Barney a cold police eye.
"I heard you brag that you were my stool. That's a lie."
"Why--why--Chief--" Barney stammered. He had counted upon help here, where there had existed mutually advantageous relations for so long.
"I heard you say you had my protection. That's another lie. You've squealed on a few people, but I've never given you a thing."
Barney gasped at this. He knew, as every one in the room also knew, that Barlow was lying. But Barlow held all the cards. Rough and ruthless police politician that he was, he made it his business always to hold the highest cards. As sick of soul as a man can be, Barney realized that Barlow was doing exactly what Barlow always did--was swinging to the side that had the most evidence and that would prove most advantageous to him. And Barney realized that he was suffering the appointed fate of all stool-pigeons who are found out by their fellow criminals to be stool-pigeons. Such informers are of no further use, and according to the police code they must be given punishment so severe as to dissipate any unhealthy belief on the public's part that there could ever
It was Joe Ellison who replied. "Larry Brainard has had everything to do with putting this across. He's been beating you all the time from the very beginning, though you may not have known it. And though he's seemed to be out of things for the last few hours, he's been the actual power behind everything that's happened up to this minute. So don't fool yourself--Larry Brainard has beaten you out at every point!"
A sense of triumph glowed within Larry at this. There had been a time when he had wanted the animal satisfaction which would have come from his giving violent physical punishment to these two--particularly to Barney. But he had no desire now for such empty vengeance.
"Well, I guess you've got nothing on me," Barney growled at them, "so I'll be moving along. Better come, too, Jimmie."
While he spoke a figure had moved from Larry's closet with the silence of a swift shadow. It's thin hand gripped Barney's shoulder.
"I guess _I've_ got something on you!" it said.
Barney whirled. "Red Hannigan!" he gasped.
"Yes, Red Hannigan!--you stool--you squealer!" said Red Hannigan. "I heard you brag about being Barlow's stool, and I heard everything else you bragged about to Joe Ellison's girl. I'd bump you off right now if I had my gat with me and if I had any chance at a get-away. But I'll be looking after you, and the gang will be looking after you, till you die--the same as you set us after Larry Brainard! No matter what else happens to you, you'll always have that as something extra waiting for you! And when the time comes, we'll get you!"
As silently as he had appeared from the closet, as silently he let himself out of the room. The glowering features of Barney had faded to a pasty white while Hannigan had spoken, and now the hand which tried to bring a handkerchief to his lips shook so that he could hardly find his face. For none knew so well as Barney Palmer how inescapable was this thing which would be hanging over him until the end of his days.
Before any one in the room could speak there came a loud pounding from within the door of the closet Larry and Red Hannigan had not occupied. "Oh, I'd completely forgotten!" exclaimed Maggie--and indeed she had forgotten all that was not immediately connected with the situation created by her father's unexpected entrance. She crossed and unlocked the door, and Barlow stepped out.
"Chief Barlow!" exclaimed the astonished Larry, and all the other men gazed at the Chief of Detectives with an equal surprise.
"He is part of my frame-up," Maggie explained at large. "I wanted both the police and Larry's old friends to know the truth at first hand-- and clear him before I went away."
"Wasn't that Red Hannigan who just spoke?" were Barlow's first words.
"Yes," said Larry.
Barney, and Old Jimmie as well, had perked up at the appearance of Barlow, as though at aid which had come just in time. But Barlow turned upon Barney a cold police eye.
"I heard you brag that you were my stool. That's a lie."
"Why--why--Chief--" Barney stammered. He had counted upon help here, where there had existed mutually advantageous relations for so long.
"I heard you say you had my protection. That's another lie. You've squealed on a few people, but I've never given you a thing."
Barney gasped at this. He knew, as every one in the room also knew, that Barlow was lying. But Barlow held all the cards. Rough and ruthless police politician that he was, he made it his business always to hold the highest cards. As sick of soul as a man can be, Barney realized that Barlow was doing exactly what Barlow always did--was swinging to the side that had the most evidence and that would prove most advantageous to him. And Barney realized that he was suffering the appointed fate of all stool-pigeons who are found out by their fellow criminals to be stool-pigeons. Such informers are of no further use, and according to the police code they must be given punishment so severe as to dissipate any unhealthy belief on the public's part that there could ever