“When did it happen?”

“Must have happened a little time after we all left the Duchess’s.”

“But—­but, Barney—­how did you learn it so soon?”

“Just ran into Officer Gavegan over on Broadway and he told me,” lied Barney.  He preferred not to tell her that he had been upon the scene with Little Mick and Lefty Ed; for the third figure which Larry had descried through the misty shadows had indeed been Barney Palmer.  Also Barney preferred not to tell what further subtle share he had had in the causes for Larry’s flight.

“Do you think he—­he made a safe get-away?”

“Safe for a few hours.  Gavegan told me they’d have him rounded up by noon to-morrow.”  Barney was more conscious of Maggie’s interest than was Maggie herself, and again was desirous of destroying it or diverting it.  “Generally I’m for the other fellow against the police.  But this time I’m all for the coppers.  I hope they land Larry—­he’s got it coming to him.  Remember that he’s a stool and a squealer.”

And swiftly Barney switched the subject.  “Let’s be moving along,
Jimmie.”

He drew Maggie out into the hall, to make more certain that Miss Grierson would not overhear.  “Well, Maggie,” he exulted, “haven’t I made good so far in my bargain to put you over?”

“Yes.”

“Of course we’re going slow at first.  That’s how you’ve got to handle big deals—­careful.  But you’ll sure be a knock-out when that she-undertaker in there gets you rigged out in classy clothes.  Then the curtain will go up on the real show—­and it’s going to be a big show—­ and you’ll be the hit of the piece!”

With that incitement to Maggie’s imagination Barney left her; and Old
Jimmie followed, furtively giving Maggie a brief, uncertain look.

CHAPTER XIV

A block away from the hotel Barney parted from Old Jimmie.  For a space Barney thought of his partner.  Barney had quick eyes which were quite capable of taking in two things at once; and while he had seen the excited glow his final speech had brought back into Maggie’s face, he had also caught that swift look of uncertainty in the lean, cunning face of Old Jimmie:  a look of one who is eager to go on, yet sees himself frustrated by his own eagerness.  To Barney it was a puzzling, suspicious look.

As Barney made his way toward a harbor of refreshment he wondered about Old Jimmie—­not in the manner Larry had wondered about a father bringing his daughter up into crooked ways—­but he wondered what kind of a man beneath his shrewd, yielding, placating manner Old Jimmie really was, how far he was to be trusted, whether he was in this game on the level or whether he was playing some very secret hand of his own.  Though he had known and worked with Old Jimmie for years, Barney had never been admitted to the inner chambers of the older man’s character.  He sensed that there were hidden rooms and twisting passages; and of this much he was certain, that Old Jimmie was sly and saturnine.