Children of the Whirlwind [88]
had demanded that he become a stool-pigeon working under Gavegan and Casey, and the grilling and the threats, more than fulfilled, which had followed.
"Going to give me a little private quiz first, Casey," he asked, "and then call in Gavegan and lead me down to Barlow?"
"Not unless Gavegan or some one else saw and recognized you, which I know they didn't since I was watching for that very thing. And not unless you yourself feel hungry for a visit to Headquarters."
"If I feel hungry, it's an appetite I'm willing to make wait."
"You know I don't want to pinch you. My part in this has been a dirty job that was just pushed my way. You know that I know you've been framed and double-crossed, and that I won't run you in unless I can't get out of it."
"Thanks, Casey. You're too white to have to run with people like Barlow and Gavegan. But if it wasn't to pinch me, why did you stop me out there in the street?"
"Been hoping I might some day run into you on the quiet. There are some things I've learned--never mind how--that I wanted to slip you for your own good."
"Go to it, Casey."
"First, I've got a hunch that it was Barney Palmer who tipped off the police about Red Hannigan and Jack Rosenfeldt, and then spread it among all the crooks that you were the stool and squealer."
"Yes, I'd guessed that much."
"Second, I've got a hunch that it really was from Barney Palmer that Barlow got his idea of making you become a stool-pigeon. Barney is a smooth one all right, and he figured what would happen. He knew you would refuse, and he knew Barlow would uncork hell beneath you. Barney certainly called every turn."
"What--what--" stammered Larry. "Why, then Barney must be--" He paused, utterly astounded by the newness of the possibility that had just risen in his mind.
"You've got it, Larry," Casey went on. "Barney is a police stool. Has been one for years. Works directly for Barlow. We're not supposed to know anything about it. He's turned up a lot of big ones. That's why it's safe for Barney to pull off anything he likes."
"Barney a police stool!" Larry repeated in the stupor of his amazement.
"Guess that's all the news I wanted to hand you, Larry, so I'll be on my way. Here's wishing you luck--and for God's sake, don't let yourself be pinched by us. So-long." And with that Casey slipped out of the hallway.
For a moment Larry stood moveless where Casey had left him. Then fierce purpose, and a cautious recklessness, surged up and took mastery of him. It had required what Casey had told him to end his irksome waiting and wavering. No longer could he remain in his hiding- place, safe himself, trying to save Maggie by slow, indirect endeavor. The time had now come for very different methods. The time had come to step forth into the open, taking, of course, no unnecessary risk, and to have it out face to face with his enemies, who were also Maggie's real enemies, though she counted them her friends--to save Maggie against her own will, if he could save her in no other way.
And having so decided, Larry walked quickly out of the hallway into the street.
CHAPTER XXVII
On the sidewalk Larry glanced swiftly around him. Half a block down the street on the front of a drug-store was a blue telephone flag. A minute later he was inside a telephone booth in the drug-store, asking first for the Hotel Grantham, and then asking the Grantham operator to be connected with Miss Maggie Cameron.
There was a long wait. While he listened for Maggie's voice he blazed with terrible fury against Barney Paler. For Maggie to be connected with a straight crook, that idea had been bad enough. But for her to be under the influence of the worst crook of all, a stool, a cunning traitor to his own friends--that was more than could possibly be stood! In his rage in Maggie's behalf he forgot for the moment the many evils Barney had done to himself. He thought of wild, incoherent, vaguely tremendous plans. First he would get Maggie away from Barney and Old Jimmie--somehow. Then he would square accounts with those two--again
"Going to give me a little private quiz first, Casey," he asked, "and then call in Gavegan and lead me down to Barlow?"
"Not unless Gavegan or some one else saw and recognized you, which I know they didn't since I was watching for that very thing. And not unless you yourself feel hungry for a visit to Headquarters."
"If I feel hungry, it's an appetite I'm willing to make wait."
"You know I don't want to pinch you. My part in this has been a dirty job that was just pushed my way. You know that I know you've been framed and double-crossed, and that I won't run you in unless I can't get out of it."
"Thanks, Casey. You're too white to have to run with people like Barlow and Gavegan. But if it wasn't to pinch me, why did you stop me out there in the street?"
"Been hoping I might some day run into you on the quiet. There are some things I've learned--never mind how--that I wanted to slip you for your own good."
"Go to it, Casey."
"First, I've got a hunch that it was Barney Palmer who tipped off the police about Red Hannigan and Jack Rosenfeldt, and then spread it among all the crooks that you were the stool and squealer."
"Yes, I'd guessed that much."
"Second, I've got a hunch that it really was from Barney Palmer that Barlow got his idea of making you become a stool-pigeon. Barney is a smooth one all right, and he figured what would happen. He knew you would refuse, and he knew Barlow would uncork hell beneath you. Barney certainly called every turn."
"What--what--" stammered Larry. "Why, then Barney must be--" He paused, utterly astounded by the newness of the possibility that had just risen in his mind.
"You've got it, Larry," Casey went on. "Barney is a police stool. Has been one for years. Works directly for Barlow. We're not supposed to know anything about it. He's turned up a lot of big ones. That's why it's safe for Barney to pull off anything he likes."
"Barney a police stool!" Larry repeated in the stupor of his amazement.
"Guess that's all the news I wanted to hand you, Larry, so I'll be on my way. Here's wishing you luck--and for God's sake, don't let yourself be pinched by us. So-long." And with that Casey slipped out of the hallway.
For a moment Larry stood moveless where Casey had left him. Then fierce purpose, and a cautious recklessness, surged up and took mastery of him. It had required what Casey had told him to end his irksome waiting and wavering. No longer could he remain in his hiding- place, safe himself, trying to save Maggie by slow, indirect endeavor. The time had now come for very different methods. The time had come to step forth into the open, taking, of course, no unnecessary risk, and to have it out face to face with his enemies, who were also Maggie's real enemies, though she counted them her friends--to save Maggie against her own will, if he could save her in no other way.
And having so decided, Larry walked quickly out of the hallway into the street.
CHAPTER XXVII
On the sidewalk Larry glanced swiftly around him. Half a block down the street on the front of a drug-store was a blue telephone flag. A minute later he was inside a telephone booth in the drug-store, asking first for the Hotel Grantham, and then asking the Grantham operator to be connected with Miss Maggie Cameron.
There was a long wait. While he listened for Maggie's voice he blazed with terrible fury against Barney Paler. For Maggie to be connected with a straight crook, that idea had been bad enough. But for her to be under the influence of the worst crook of all, a stool, a cunning traitor to his own friends--that was more than could possibly be stood! In his rage in Maggie's behalf he forgot for the moment the many evils Barney had done to himself. He thought of wild, incoherent, vaguely tremendous plans. First he would get Maggie away from Barney and Old Jimmie--somehow. Then he would square accounts with those two--again