“Partly that,” smiled Old Jimmie blandly—­perhaps too blandly.  “Suppose we sit down.”

They did so, Maggie sitting a little apart from the men and regarding Larry with indignant, questioning eyes.  She still could not understand his queer behavior when she had announced her intention of working with him.  Could it be, as her father had said, because he would never work with women—­not trusting them?  She’d show him!

She was so occupied with this wonderment that she gave no heed to the talk about Larry’s experience in Sing Sing and Old Jimmie’s recital of what had happened among Larry’s friends during his absence.  During this gossip the Duchess entered from the stairway, and without word to any one shuffled across to her desk in a corner and bent silently over her accounts:  just one more grotesque and unredeemed pledge in this museum of antiquities and forgotten pawns.

Presently Barney Palmer, who had been impatient during all this, broke out with: 

“Aw, let’s cut out this chatter about what used to be and get down to cases.  Jimmie, will you spill the business to Larry, or want me to?”

“I’ll tell him.  Listen, Larry.”  Maggie pricked up her ears; the talk was now excitingly important.  “We’ve got our very greatest game all planned out.  Stock-selling game; going to unload the whole thing on one sucker, and we’ve got the sucker picked out.  Besides you and Barney and me, there’s Red Hannigan and Jack Rosenfeldt in it—­a classy bunch all right.  And we think that for the woman end we’ll take in Mae Gorham.  She’s clever and innocent-eyed—­”

“But I thought you were going to take me in!” protested Maggie.

“Maggie’ll be just as good as Mae Gorham,” put in Barney.

“We’ll let that pass,” said Old Jimmie.  “The main thing, Larry, is that everything is ready.  It’s a whale of a business proposition.  We’ve been waiting for you; you’re all that’s lacking—­the brainy guy to sit behind the scenes and manage the thing.  You’ve handled the bunch for a long time, and they want you to handle this.  For you’re sure a wonder at business, Larry!  None keener.  Well, we’ve held this off waiting for you for a month.  How about jumping right in?”

All three eyed Larry.  His lean face was expressionless.  He lit a cigarette, rose and leaned against the Duchess’s safe on which stood the green parrot, and, gaze on the floor, slowly exhaled smoke through his nostrils.

“Well?” demanded Barney.

Larry looked at the two men with quiet, even eyes.  “Thanks to both of you.  It’s a great compliment.  But I’ve had time to do a little planning myself up in Sing Sing, and I’ve worked out a game that’s got this one beat a mile.”

“Hell!” ejaculated Barney in wrathful disgust.  “Jimmie, I told you we were wasting time waiting for him!”

“Hold on a second, Barney.  If Larry’s worked out a better game, he’ll take us into it.  But, Larry, how can your game beat this one?”