“I’ll get busy with the drag-net; we’ll land Brainard this time,” said Barlow.  And then with a grim look at Barney:  “But Larry Brainard’s not what I got you up here to talk about, Palmer.  I wanted to talk about two words to you—­and say ’em to you right between your eyes.”

“Go ahead, Chief.”

“First, you ain’t been worth a damn to me for several months.  You’ve given me no value received for me keeping my men off of you.  You haven’t turned up a single thing.”

“Come, now, Chief—­you’re forgetting about Red Hannigan and Jack Rosenfeldt.”

“Chicken feed!  They’re out on bail, and when their cases come up, they’ll beat them!  Besides, you didn’t give me that tip to help me; you gave it to me so that you could fix things to put Larry Brainard in bad with all his old friends.  You did that to help yourself.  Shut up!  Don’t try to deny it.  I know!”

Barney did not attempt denial.  Barlow went on: 

“And the second thing I want to tell you, and tell you hard, is this:  You gotta turn in some business!  The easy way you’ve been going makes it look like you’ve forgot I’ve got hold of you where the hair’s long.  Young man, you’d better remember that I’ve got you cold for that Gregory stock business—­you and Old Jimmie Carlisle.  Got all the papers in a safety-deposit vault, and got three witnesses doing stretches in Sing Sing.  Keep on telling yourself all that! and keep on telling yourself that, if you don’t come across, some day soon I’ll suddenly discover that you’re the guilty party in that Gregory affair, and I’ll bring down those witnesses I’ve got cached in Sing Sing.”

Barney moved uneasily in his chair.  He knew the bargain he had made, and did not like to dwell upon the conditions under which he was a licensed adventurer.

“No need to rag me like this, Chief,” he protested.  “Sure I remember all you’ve said.  And you’re not going to have cause to be sore much longer.  There’ll be plenty doing.”

“See that there is!  And see that you don’t pull any raw work.  And see that you don’t let your foot slip.  For if you do, you know what’ll happen to you.  Now get out!”

Barney got out, again protesting that he would not be found failing.  He was not greatly disturbed by what Barlow had said.  Every so often there had to be just such sessions, and every so often Barlow had to let off just such steam.

Barney’s errand was done.  The police of the city were on Larry’s trail and his share in the matter was and would remain unknown.  Thus far all was well.  He had no doubt of Larry’s early capture, now that he was back in New York, and now that the whole police force had been promptly warned and were hotly after him, and now that all avenues of exit would instantly be, in fact by this time were, under surveillance and closed against him—­and now that every refuge of the criminal world was only a trap for him.  No, there wasn’t a doubt of Larry’s early capture.  There couldn’t be.  And once Larry was locked up, things would be much better.  Barlow would see that Larry didn’t talk undesirable things, or at least that such talk was not heard.  It wasn’t exactly pleasant or safe having Larry at large, free to blurt out to the wrong persons those things about Barney’s being a stool and a squealer.