"Sure thing," grumped Shorty unbelievingly.
"You see," continued Link, "We're in bad, this guy escaping and all,
and like as not Pat swiping all the boodle and layin' the blame onto
us. You can't tell what might happen with Pat an' Sam, the dirty
devils. They might even let it come to a trial and testify against us.
Sam has it in fer me an' you this long time, 'count of that last pretty
little safe blow-out that didn't materialize. See?"
Shorty growled gloomily.
"Now on the other hand if we can step in before it is too late, or
before the news of his havin' escaped gets to his fond parents, and get
in our little work, we might at least make expenses out of it and beat
it out of the country fer a while. I been thinkin' of South America fer
my health fer some time past. How 'bout you?"
"Suits me. But how you gonta work it?"
"Well, you see I know a little bit about wimmen. An' I seen this woman
oncet. If she was one of these here newfangled political kind you
couldn't do nothin' with her, she'd be onta you in no time an' have you
up before the supreme court 'fore she goddone, but this here woman is
one o' them old fashioned, useless kind that's afraid of everything and
cries easy, and gets scairt at her shadder. I seen her on the board
walk once with her husband, took notice to her, thought I might need it
sometime. She has gray hair but she ain't never growed up. She was
ridin' in a wheeled chair, an' him walkin' beside her an' a man behind
pushin' her, an' a maid comin' along with a fur coat. She never done a
thing fer herself, not even think, an' that's the kind you can put
anything over on from a teaparty to a blizzard without her suspectin' a
thing. Shorty, I'm gonta make up to Mrs. Shafton an' see what I can get
out of her. But we gotta get a trolley line down to Unity an' catch
that evenin' train. See?"
About half-past ten that night, with the moon at full sail, Shorty and
Link, keeping the shady side of the street, slunk into a little
obscure, and as yet unsuppressed saloon in a back street in a dirty
little manufacturing city not many miles from Unity. Just off the side
entrance was a back hall in which lurked a dark smelly little telephone
booth under a staircase, too far removed from the noisy crowd that
frequented the place to be heard. Here Link took instant refuge with
Shorty bulking largely in front of the door, smoking a thin black
twisted cigar, and looking anything but happy. He had figured greatly
on getting his share of a million, and now at a single shot he had let
it go through his fingers. There were reasons why he needed that part
of a million at once. Link had all sorts of nerve. He called up the
Shafton home in New Jersey and jollied the maid, calling her girlie,
and saying he was in the employ of young Laurie Shafton and had a
special private message from the young man to his mother. It was not
long before a peevish elderly voice in his ear said: "Well? Mrs. Shafton at the phone."