Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1914-02-20
CHAPTER x.
A Lone Hand.

Martin MCGEE waited to keep his
latest appointment with Resale LIE
Grange on a bench in Stuyvesant Fish
Park, dead center for the Hebrew pop
ulation in New York. He specialized
aaxily and with some amusement upon
the habits Of Rosalie LIE Grange-so
much her own, yet so we'll conceived
for her purpose. For example. this
method of holding business confer
ences on secret affairs-for she al.
ways set her appointments in some
out-ofthe-way open space. It was
q highly original, highly effective
plan. One could enter without at
tracing attention; n could watch
the approaches; a meeting in a pub.
lie park-grant that it were discov'
cred in such a remote part of the city
could be passed off as an accidental
encounter, not a conference. That
was one of the thousand ways in
which her mind thought faster and
further than his.
Martin MCGEE was approaching
fifty, the second period of sentiment
in a In the lusty summer Of his
days, he had woodland lost. She
had chosen the other arm of munich.
pal warfare and married a fireman.
Since then woman had cut but a shad'
owy figure in his bachelor life. And
here, in his middle age, the face and
figure, the form and move Of a woman
was playing hide-and-seek among his
thought of police duty and police priv.
flege. He recognized ever a certain
embarrassment over the coming meet.
ing like that Of a youth who has been
slapped by a perky girl.
How do you do?" said a voice be.
side him; and Rosalie's self settled
down on the park bench.
He looked at her without rising
his first thought to read in those eyes
of hers, which mirrored so many emo.
lions, her attitude toward him. The
eyes were laughing!
How do you do?" he repeated after
her. And then, as though he must be
out with it:
Say, l guess there's an apology
coming from me-"
"If there is" said Rosalie, there's
one coming from about every man ]
ever knew. It's the way of the ami
NAL. It's a kind Of a left-handed com
pliment to the lady though. Now let's
overlook little things. I've come to
talk business. I'm busting with it.
She glanced to right and left, taking
In a faded black hood" of a woman,
sodden "panhandler" of a man. ~
guess we'd better walk" she said
They rose and threaded the push-carts
the crowds, the confusion and smells
toward the river.
Nov, I'm playing a lone hand" she
began. "If things go wrong. I've only
myself to blame; an II they go right
you get all the credit-as usual.
want help an no questions asked. This
B1ack-hand outfit Of dago detectives
what have you got, that you a lend
mel"
You want"
"A detective from the dago squad
Y want him straight an I want him
antck an / want him for my own-he
reports to me. not to you"
"LeNs see-there's Anzini."
whats he Hke?"
italian Swiss. Big fat fellow. Little
slow, but Straight"
'Next?"'
"Cuccoli. Born in New York. A
dago lightweight fighter. Works or
the quiet as a stool-pigeon. Their
there's Grimaldi. He's a scholar
used to be a schoolmaster-and | keeI
him on classy dago jobs. He talks
Spanish and French like a native
taught school once in Spain. A little
fellow, and very talkative."
This Grim-whatever you call hin
this scholar-he's laxative. yot
say?"
YES"
~