It was strange how strong
was the intuition upon him to-night that bade him go on and make all
speed to Spider Jack's--while equally strong was the cold, stubborn
logic that bade him go first to the Sanctuary. There were things that he
needed there that would probably be absolutely essential to him before
the night was out, things without which he might be so badly handicapped
as to invite failure from the start; and yet--it was already midnight!
Ostensibly both Makoff and Spider Jack closed their places at eleven.
But that might mean anything--depending upon their own respective
inclinations, or on what of their own peculiar brand of deviltry might
be afoot. If they were still about, still in evidence, he was still too
early, midnight though it was; though, on the other hand, if the coast
was clear, he could ill afford to lose a moment of the time between
now and the hour that the Magpie had planned for the robbery of Henry
LaSalle, for it would not be an easy matter, even once inside Spider
Jack's, to find that package--since it was Spider's open boast that
things committed to his care were where the police, or any one else,
might as well whistle and suck their thumbs as try to find them!
And then, with sudden decision, taking his hesitation, as it were, by
the throat, Jimmie Dale hurried on again--to the Sanctuary. At most, it
could delay him but another fifteen minutes, and by half-past twelve, or
a quarter to one at the latest, he would be at Spider Jack's.
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