CHAPTER XI
THE MAGPIE
A minute passed--another. The automatic at Jimmie Dale's hip, the muzzlejust peeping over the table top, held a steady bead on the window. Camethe footstep again--and then suddenly, a series of low, quick tappingsupon the windowpane. The Tocsin's hand slipped away from his arm.Jimmie Dale's set face relaxed as he read the underground Morse, and hereplaced his revolver slowly in his pocket.
"The Magpie!" said Jimmie Dale, in an undertone. "What's he want?"
"I don't know," she answered, in a whisper. "He never came here before.There's a back way out, Jimmie, if you--"
"No," he said quickly. "We've enemies enough, with out making one ofthe Magpie. He knows some one is here with you--our shadows were on theblind. Don't queer yourself. Let him in. I'll light the lamp."
He struck a match, as she ran from the room, and, lifting the hot lampchimney with the edge of his ragged coat, lighted the lamp. He turnedthe wick down a little, shading and dimming the room--and then, as heflirted a bead of moisture from his forehead, whimsically stretched outhis hand to watch it in the lamplight.
"That's bad, Jimmie," he muttered gravely to himself, as he noted analmost imperceptible tremour. "Got a start, didn't you! Under a bit of astrain, eh? Well"--grimly--"never mind! It looks as though the luck hadturned Makoff and Spider Jack!"
His hand reached up to his hat, jerked the brim at a rakish angle overhis eyes--and he sprawled himself out on a chair. He heard the Tocsin'svoice at the front door, and a man's voice, low and guarded, answer her.Then the door closed, and their steps approached the room. It was rathercurious, that--a visit from the Magpie! What could the Magpie want? Whatcould there be in common between the Magpie and Silver Mag? The Magpie,alias Slimmy Joe, was counted the cleverest safe worker in the UnitedStates, barring only and always one--a smile flickered across the lipsof Larry the Bat--one whose pre-eminence the Magpie, much to his ownchagrin, admitted himself--the Gray Seal!
He looked up, twisting the stub of a cigarette between his grimy fingersand fumbling for a match, as the Tocsin and, behind her, the Magpie,short, slim, and wiry, shrewd-faced, with sharp, quick-glancing littleblack eyes, entered the room.
"'Ello, Larry!" grinned the Magpie. "Got yer breath back yet? I felt itthrough de windowpane when youse let go at de lamp!"
"'Ello, Slimmy!" returned Jimmie Dale ungraciously, speaking through thecorner of his mouth. "Ferget it!"
"Sure!" said the Magpie unconcernedly. He stared about him, and finally,drawing a chair up to the table, sat down, motioned the Tocsin to do thesame, and leaned forward amiably. "I didn't mean to throw no scare intoyouse," he said, in a conciliating tone. "But I had a little businesswid Mag, an' I was kind of interested in whether she was entertainin'company or not--see? I didn't know youse an' Mag was workin' together."
"Mabbe," observed Jimmie Dale, as ungraciously as before, "mabbe dere'ssome more t'ings youse don't know!"
"Aw, cough up de grouch!" advised the Magpie, with a hint of impatiencecreeping into his voice. "Youse don't need to be sore all night! I toldyouse I wasn't tryin' to hand youse one, didn't I?"
"Never mind Larry, Slimmy," put in the Tocsin petulantly. "He's down onhis luck, dat's all. He ain't had de price of a pinch of coke fer twodays."
"Oho!" exclaimed the Magpie, grinning again. "So dat's wot's givin'youse de pip, eh, Larry? Well, den, say, youse can take it from me datmabbe youse'll be glad I blew around. I was lookin' fer a guy aboutyer size fer a little job to-night, an' I was t'inkin' of lettin' YoungDutchy in on it, but seem' youse are here an' in wid Mag, an' dat I gotto get Mag in, too, youse are on if youse say de word."
"Wot's de lay?" inquired Larry the Bat, unbending a little.
The Magpie cocked his eye, and stuck his tongue in his cheek.
"GOOD-night!" he said tersely. "Nothin' like dat! Are youse on, or ain'tyouse?"
"Well, den, wot's in it fer me?" persisted Larrry the Bat.
"More'n de price of a coke sneeze!" returned the Magpie pertinently."Dere's a century note fer youse, an' mabbe two or t'ree of dem ferMag."
Larry the Bat's eyes gleamed avariciously.
"Aw, quit yer kiddin'!" he said gruffly. "A century note--fer me!"
"Dat's wot I said! Youse heard me!" rejoined the Magpie shortly. "Onlyif it listens good to youse now, I don't want no squealin' after thedivvy. I'm takin' de chances, youse has de soft end of it. One centurynote fer youse--an' de rest is none of yer business! Dat's puttin' itstraight, ain't it? Well, wot do youse say, an' say it quick--'cause ifyouse ain't comin' in, youse can beat it out of here so's I can talk toMag."
"Dere ain't nothin' I wouldn't take a chance on fer a hundred plunks!"declared Larry the Bat, with sudden fervency--and stared, anxiouslyexpectant, at the Magpie. "Sure, I'm on Slimmy! Sure, I am! Cut itloose! Spill de story!"
"Well, den," said the Magpie, "I wants--"
"Youse ain't through yet!" interrupted the Tocsin tartly. "I ain't heardyouse askin' me nothin'! I ain't on me uppers like Larry, an' mabbe deprice don't cut so much ice--see?"
"Aw," said the Magpie, with a smirk, "I don't have to ask youse on dislay. Dis is where youse'd come in on it fer marbles. Say, dis is wherewe gets de hook into a guy by de name of Henry LaSalle! Get me?"
HENRY LASALLE! Under the table, Jimmie Dale's hand clenched suddenly;but not a muscle of his face moved, save, as with the tip of his tongue,he shifted the butt of the cigarette that was hanging royally from hislower lip to the other corner of his mouth.
"Sure! She's 'got' youse, Slimmy!" he flung out, with a grin, as theTocsin wrinkled up her face menacingly and began to mumble to herself."He's de guy dat handed her one when she was young, an' she's beenlayin' fer him ever since! Sure! I know! Ain't I worked him fer her tillI wears me shoes out tryin' to get somet'ing on him! Sure, she's in onit! Go on, Slimmy, wot's de lay? Wot do I do fer dat century?"
The Magpie hitched his chair closer to the table and, as his sharp,little, ferret eyes glanced around the room, motioned the two to bringstheir heads nearer.
"One of me influential broker friends down on Wall Street put me wise,"he said, with a wink. "Dat's good enough fer youse two, as far as datgoes. But take it from me, I got it dead straight." He lowered his voice"Say, he's one of de richest mugs in New York, ain't he? Well, he's beensellin' stocks an' bonds all day, t'ousands an' t'ousands of dollars'worth--fer cash."
"All dem t'ings is always sold fer cash," remarked Larry the Batfatuously.
"Aw, ferget it!" said the Magpie earnestly. "Fer CASH, I said--de coin,de long green--understand? He wasn't shovin' no checks fer what he soldinto de bank except to get dem cashed. Dat's wot he's been doin' allday--gettin' de checks cashed, an' gettin' de money in big bills--see! Iknow of one bunch of eighty t'ousand--an' dat's only one!"
"Wot fer?" inquired Larry the Bat. It was the question that was poundingat his brain, as he stared innocently at the Magpie. What did it mean?Why was Henry LaSalle turning, and, if the Magpie was right, feverishlyturning every security he could lay his hands on into cash? And then,in a flash, the answer came. THEY HAD NOT FOUND THE PACKAGE! Equallyto them, as to the Tocsin, sitting there before him, it meant life anddeath. If the package were found by the Tocsin instead of themselves,the game was up! They were preparing for eventualities. If they wereforced to run at a moment's notice, they at least were not going torun empty-handed! Far from empty-handed, it seemed! It would not bedifficult for the estate's executor to realise a vast sum in short orderon instantly marketable, gilt-edged securities--say, half a milliondollars. Not very bulky, either--in large bills! Five thousandhundred-dollar bills would make half a million. It was astonishinghow small a hand bag, say, might hold a fortune! "Wot fer, Slimmy?" heinquired again, wiggling his cigarette butt on his tongue tip. "Wot'd hedo dat fer?"
"How de hell do youse suppose I knows!" demanded the Magpie, politelyscornful. "Dat's his business--dat ain't wot's worryin' me!"
"No--sure, it ain't!" admitted Larry the Bat ingratiating
ly. "But go on,keep movin', Slimmy! Wot's he done wid de stuff?"
"Done wid it!" echoed the Magpie, with a short laugh. "Wot do youset'ink! He's been luggin' it home to his swell joint up dere on deavenoo, an' crammin' his safe full of it."
Larry the Bat sucked in his breath.
"Gee, dat's soft!" he murmured, and then suddenly, as though withpainful inspiration: "Say, Slimmy--say, are youse sure youse ain't beenhanded a steer?"
The Magpie grinned wickedly.
"I ain't fallin' fer steers!" he said shortly. "Dis is on de level."
Jimmie Dale lurched up from his chair, and, leaning over the lampchimney, drew wheezily on his cigarette to get a light. His eyes soughtthe Tocsin's face. To all intents and purposes she was entirely absorbedin the Magpie. He sat down again to gape, with well-stimulated, doglikeadmiration, at Slimmy Joe. WAS THIS, TOO, A PLANT? Why had the Magpiecome to THEM with this story of Henry LaSalle? And then, the nextinstant, as the Magpie spoke, his suspicions were allayed.
"Let's get down to cases!" the Magpie invited crisply. "I didn't blowin here just by luck. Dis Henry LaSalle is de guy youse worked fer once,ain't he, Mag? Dat's de spiel, ain't it?--he sent youse up fer pinchin'de tacks out of his carpets!"
"I never pinched nothin'!" snarled Silver Mag truculently. "He's a dirtyliar! I never did!"
"Cut it out! Cut it out! Can dat!" complained the Magpie patiently. "Depoint is, youse worked in his house, didn't youse?"
"Sure I did!" snapped the Tocsin, sullenly aggressive; "but--"
"Well, den, dat's wot I want, dat's wot I come fer, Mag--a plan of dehouse. See?"
Jimmie Dale could feel the Tocsin's eyes upon him, questioning,searching, seeking a cue. A plan of the house--yes or no? And a decisionon the instant!
"Sure!" said Larry the Bat brightly. "Dat's wot I was t'inkin' yousewere after all de time. Say, youse are all right, Slimmy! Youse are dekind to work wid! Go on, Mag, draw de dope fer Slimmy. Dat's betterdan tryin' to put one over on de swell guy. Dis'll make him squeal ferfair!"
The Magpie produced a pencil and a piece of paper from his pocket, andlaid them on the table in front of the Tocsin.
"Dere youse are," he announced. "Help yerself, an' go to it, Mag!"
The Tocsin, evidently not quite certain of her part, wet the pencildoubtfully on the end of her tongue.
"I ain't never drawed plans," she said anxiously. "Mabbe"--she glancedat Jimmie Dale--"mabbe I dunno how to do it RIGHT."
"Aw, go ahead!" nodded Larry the Bat. "Youse can do it right, Mag. Yousedon't have to make no oil paintin'! All de Magpie wants is de doors an'windows, eh, Slimmy?"
"Sure," agreed the Magpie encouragingly. "Dat's all, Mag. Just markde rooms out on de first floor, an' de basement. Youse can explain wotyouse 're doin' as youse goes along. I'll get youse."
The Tocsin cackled maliciously in assent; and then, while the Magpie gotup from his chair and stood peering over her shoulder, she began to drawlabouriously, her brows knitted, the pencil hooked awkwardly betweencramped-up forefinger and thumb.
Larry the Bat, slouched forward over the table, his chin in his hands,appeared to watch the proceedings with mild interest--but his eyes, likea hawk's, were following every line on the paper, transferring them tohis brain, photographing every detail of the plan in his mind. And ashe watched, there seemed something that was near to the acme of all thatwas ironical in the Magpie standing there, his sharp, little, black eyesdrinking in greedily the Tocsin's work, in the Tocsin herself aiding andabetting in the projected theft--OF HER OWN MONEY! How far would he letthe Magpie go? He did not know. Perhaps--who could tell!--all the way.Between now and then there lay that package! If it were at Makoff's, atSpider Jack's, if he could find it, get it--the Magpie as a temporarycustodian of the estate's money would at least preclude its loss byflight if the Crime Club took alarm too quickly. Larry the Bat's eyes,under half-closed lids, rested musingly on the Magpie's face. The Magpiewould not get very far away with it! On the other hand, if he failed atSpider Jack's, if, after all, he was wrong, and the package had neverbeen there, or if they had forestalled him, turned the trick uponhim, already secured it, then--Larry the Bat's lips, working on hiscigarette, formed in a twisted smile--then, well then, that was quiteanother matter! Perhaps he and the Magpie might not agree so far! A halfmillion dollars was perhaps not much out of eleven millions, but it wasa salvage not to be despised! Why did he say half a million! Well, whynot? If the Magpie knew of a single transaction of eighty thousand,and there had been many transactions during the day, a half million waslittle likely to prove an exaggeration--and the less likely in viewof the fact that, if those in the Crime Club were preparing foran emergency, they would not stint themselves in the disposal ofsecurities.
The Magpie was keeping up a running fire of questions, as the Tocsintoiled on with her pencil. Where did the hall lead to? How many windowsin the library? Did she remember the kind of fastenings? Did theservants sleep in the basement, or above? And finally, twice over, asshe finished the clumsy drawing and pushed it toward him, he demandedminute details of the position of the safe.
"Aw, dat's all right, Slimmy!" Larry the Bat cut in airily. "If youseferget anyt'ing when youse get in dere, youse can ask me. I got itcinched!"
The Magpie folded the paper and stowed it carefully away in his pocket.
"Ask youse, eh!" he grunted sarcastically. "An' where do youse t'inkyouse'll be about dat time?"
"In dere wid youse, of course," replied Larry the Bat promptly. "Dat'swot youse said."
"Yes, youse will--NOT!" announced the Magpie, with cold finality. "Doyouse t'ink I want to queer myself! A hot one youse'd be on an insidejob! Youse'll be OUTSIDE, wid yer peepers skinned for de bulls--yousean' Mag here, too. See! Get dat straight. While I'm on de job yousetwo plays de game. Now youse listen to me, both of youse. Don't startnothin' unless youse has to. If it's a cinch I got to make a get-away,youse two start a drunk fight. Get me? Youse know de lay. T'row de talkloud--an' I'll fade. Dat's all! We'll crack de crib early--it'll bequiet enough up dere by one o'clock."
One o'clock! Larry the Bat shook his head. What time was it now? It wasabout nine when he had first met the Tocsin, then the Sanctuary, thenthe long walk as he had followed her--say a quarter of ten for that. Andhe had certainly been here with her not less than an hour and a half.It must be after eleven, then. One o'clock! And before that must comeMakoff and Spider Jack! The night that half an hour ago had seemed sosterile, was crowding a program of events upon him now--too fast!
"Nothin' doin'!" he said thoughtfully. "Youse are in wrong dere, Slimmy.One o'clock don't go! Say, take it from me, I've watched dat guytoo many nights fer Mag. 'Tain't often he leaves de club before oneo'clock--an' he ain't never in bed before two."
"All right," agreed the Magpie, after a moment's reflection. "Youseought to know. Make it three o'clock." He pulled a cigar from hispocket, lighted it, and, leaning back in his chair, stuck his feet upon the table. "If youse don't mind, Mag, I'll stick around a while," hedecided calmly. "Mabbe de less I'm seen to-night de better--an' I guessdere won't be nobody lookin' fer me here."
Larry the Bat coughed suddenly, and rose up a little heavily from hischair. He had not counted on that! If the Magpie was settling down fora prolonged stay, it devolved upon him, Jimmie Dale, to get away, andat once--and without exciting the Magpie's suspicions. He coughed again,looked nervously from the Tocsin to the Magpie--stammered--swallowedhard--and coughed once more.
"Well, wot's bitin' youse?" inquired the Magpie ironically.
"Nothin'," said Larry the Bat--and hesitated. "Nothin', only--" Hehesitated again; and then, the words in a rush:
"Say, Slimmy, couldn't youse come across wid a piece of dat centurynow?"
"Wot fer?" demanded the Magpie, a little aggressively.
Larry the Bat cleared his throat with a desperate effort.
"Youse knows," he admitted sheepishly. "Just gimme de price of one,Slimmy--just one."
"Coke!" exploded the Magpie.
"An' get soaked to de eyes--not by a damnsight!"
"No! Honest to Gawd, no, Slimmy--just one!" pleaded Larry the Bat.
"Nix!" said the Magpie shortly.
Larry the Bat thrust out a hand before the Magpie's eyes that shooktremulously.
"I got to have it!" he declared, with sudden fierceness. "I GOT to--see!Look at me! I ain't goin' to be no good to-night if I don't. I tellyouse, I got to! I ain't goin' to t'row youse down, Slimmy--honest, Iain't! Just one--an' it'll set me up. If I don't get none I'll be on derocks before mornin'! Dat's straight, Slimmy--ask Mag, she knows."
"Aw, let him go get it!" broke in the Tocsin wearily. "Dat's de bestt'ing youse can do, Slimmy--dey're all alike when dey gets in hisclass."
"Youse cocaine sniffers gives me de pip!" snorted the Magpie, indisgust. He dug down into his pocket, produced a bill, and flung itacross the table to Larry the Bat. "Well, dere youse are; but yousecan take it from me, Larry, dat if youse gets whiffed"--he sworethreateningly--"I'll crack every bone in yer face! Get me?"
"Slimmy," said Larry the Bat fervently, grabbing at the bill with ahungry hand, "youse can count on me. I'll be up dere on de job beforeyouse are. Three o'clock, eh? Well, so long, Slimmy"--he slouchedeagerly to the door. "So long, Mag"--he paused on the threshold fora single, quick-flung, significant glance. "See youse on de avenoo,Mag--I'll be up dere before youse are. So long!"
"Oh, so long!" said the Tocsin contemptuously.
And, an instant later, Jimmie Dale closed the outer door behind him.