If Brodie squeals to a copper and these
people are caught, they can't hold them under the pistol law,
anyhow."
The dip had caught sight of us, with his ferret eyes in the
doorway. Quickly Kennedy passed over the money in return for the
motley array of objects taken from Brodie. The dip and his gun-
moll disappeared into the darkness as quickly as they had emerged.
There was a curious assortment--the paraphernalia of a drug fiend,
old letters, a key, and several other useless articles. The
pickpocket had retained the money from the sale of the dope as his
own particular honorarium.
"Brodie has led us up to the source of his supply," remarked
Kennedy, thoughtfully regarding the stuff. "And the dip has given
us the key to it. Are you game to go in?"
A glance up and down the street showed it still deserted. We
wormed our way in the shadow to the cellar before which Brodie had
stood. The outside door was open. We entered, and Craig stealthily
struck a match, shading it in his hands.
At one end we were confronted by a little door of mystery, barred
with iron and held by an innocent enough looking padlock.
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