"So, there's no word from the Monk?"
"No, chief. De bloke's disappeared. Either he got so much swag
offen dis old Grimsby guy, after youse got de bumps, or he had
cold feet and beat it wid de machine,"
"It's a crooked game on me." rasped the voice behind the screen.
"I'll send him up for this. You know how far my lines go out.
What about Dutch Jake and Ben the Bite?"
The man before the screen shook his head in helpless bewilderment
There was a suggestion of fright in his manner, as well.
"Can't find out a t'ing, gov'nor. I hopes you don't blame me for
dis. I'm doin' my share. Dey just disappears dat night w'en you
sends 'em to shadder Van Cleft's joint. My calcerlation is--"
"I'm not paying you to calculate. I've trusted you and lost six
thousand dollars' worth of automobiles for my pains. You can
just calculate this, that unless I get some news about Jake, Ben
and the Monk by this time tomorrow, I'll send some news down to
Police headquarters on Lafayette Street that will make you wish
you had never been born.
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