'Doc,' I says, 'you know how to write out
a death certificate, to hush this up from your end. I've done
the rest.'"
Captain Cronin leaned forward, a queer excitement agitating him.
"Do you know what that doctor says to me, Monty?"
Shirley shook his head.
He says; "My God, it's the third!"
Shirley's white hand gripped the edge of the table. "The Van
Cleft's doctor is one of the greatest surgeons in the country,
Professor MacDonald of the Medical College. He said that?"
"He did. I answers, 'Whadd'y mean the third?' Then he looks me
straight in the eye, and sings back, 'None of your business.'"
Cronin shook his head. "I never seen a man with a squarer look,
and yet he has me guessing. I goes back to the garage, over past
Eighth Avenue, you know, where two johns come up along side o'
me. One rubs me with his elbow and the other applies that brass
knuckle,--then they gets pinched. I got dressed up in a drug
store, got the chauffeur's license number, and goes on down to my
office to see this girl.
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