and good government and tell you what a helpless old gas-bag you are? . . . Cut that out; you’re not that big a fool—no, you don’t think I’m a fraud. I can tell it by your voice. . . . Now, listen, and I’ll give you a pointer that will prove it to you. Of course you’ve had this murder case worked over by your staff of bright young blockheads. Half of the second button on old Mrs. Norcross’s nightgown is broken off. I saw it when I took the garnet ring off her finger. I thought it was a ruby. . . . Stop that! it won’t work.”
Kernan turned to Woods with a diabolic smile.
“I’ve got him going. He believes me now. He didn’t quite cover the transmitter with his hand when he told somebody to call up Central on another ’phone and get our number. I’ll give him just one more dig, and then we’ll make a ‘get-away.’
“Hello! . . . Yes. I’m here yet. You didn’t think I’d run from such a little subsidized, turncoat rag of a newspaper, did you? . . . Have me inside of forty-eight hours? Say, will you quit being funny? Now, you let grown men alone and attend to your business of hunting up divorce cases and street-car accidents and printing the filth and scandal that you make your living by. Good-by, old boy—sorry I haven’t time to call on you. I’d feel perfectly safe in your sanctum asinorum. Tra-la!”
“He’s as mad as a cat that’s lost a mouse,” said
[195]
