And
then, sir, there ain't been an hour gone by all through the day that a
woman, sir--a lady, begging your pardon, Master Jim--hasn't rung up
on the telephone, asking if you were back, and if I could get you, and
where you were, and half frantic, sir, half sobbing, sometimes, sir, and
saying there was a life hanging on it, Master Jim."
Larry the Bat, staring into the mouthpiece of the instrument,
subconsciously passed his hand across his forehead, and subconsciously
noted that his fingers, as he drew them away, were damp.
"Where is the letter now, Jason?" inquired Jimmie Dale coolly.
"Here on your desk, Master Jim. Shall I bring it to you?"
Bring it to him! How? When? Where? Bring it to him! The ghastly irony
of it! Jimmie Dale tried to think--prodding, spurring desperately that
keen, lightning brain of his that had never failed him yet. How bridge
the gulf between Larry the Bat and Jimmie Dale in Jason's eyes--not just
for the replenishing of funds now, but with a life at stake!
"No--I think not, Jason," said Jimmie Dale calmly. "Just leave it where
it is. And if she telephones again, say that you have told me--that will
be sufficient to satisfy any further inquiries. And Jason--"
"Yes, sir?"
"If she telephones again, try and find out where the call comes from."
"I haven't forgotten what you said once, Master Jim, sir," said the old
man eagerly.
Pages:
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167