"Oh, no, you don't!" he growled. "Nix on that! What do you take me
for--a fool? You beat it out of here and round him up--eh--while I suck
my thumbs? Say, forget it! Do you think I'm doing this because I love
you? Why, blame you, you've been aching for a year to put the bracelets
on me yourself! Say, wake up! I'm in on this myself."
Again that silence. Then Lannigan spoke slowly, in a puzzled way.
"I don't get you, Whitey," he said. "What do you mean?" Then, a little
sharply: "You're quite right; you've got some reputation yourself, and
you're badly 'wanted' if we could get the 'goods' on you. If you're
trying to plant something, look out for yourself, or--"
"Can that!" snapped Whitey Mack threateningly. "Can that sort of spiel
right now--or quit! I ain't telling you his name--yet. BUT I'LL TAKE
YOU TO HIM TO-NIGHT--and you and me nabs him together. Is that straight
enough goods for you?"
"Don't get sore," said Lannigan, more pacifically. "Yes, if you'll do
that it's good enough for any man. But lay your cards on the table face
up, Whitey--I want to see what you opened the pot on."
"You've seen 'em," Whitey Mack answered ungraciously. "I've told you
already. The Gray Seal goes out for keeps--curse him for a snitch! If
I bumped him off, or wised up any of the guys to it, and we was caught,
we'd get the juice for it even if it was the Gray Seal, wouldn't we?
Well, what's the use! If one of you dicks get him, he gets bumped off
just the same, only regular, up in the wire parlour at Sing Sing.
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