Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1921-12-20

he could only get back there and get
that money But there were footsteps
coming now--his straining ears could
hear them--they were coming nearer
and nearer to the door that opened from
the shed into the rear OF the house. Fury
surged upon him again. Skarvan
Bookie Skarvan! II was Sknrvan, not
headed rat of tout in there, that he
would have sold his soul at that instant
TO settle with. It was Skarvan, the
dirty Judas, not the others, who, Snug
and safe, had planned his. Dave Hen
derson's murder in deliberate, cold
blooded hellishness!
Well, II he, Dare Henderson, lived,
Bookie Skarvan would pay an
eye for an eye that was Cod 8
law, wasn't il? we'll, as GER
tainly as God lived, Bookie Skarvan
would pay Il was another in
centive for him, Dave Henderson, to
The brain works with incredible
quite reached the door leading into the
hall. His shoes were on now; and now
his eyes fell upon the empty black
handbag which, to facilitate his move
ments in, putting on his shoes, he had
set down on the floor beside him, and
there came, Pickering suddenly over the
tight pressed lips, a curious smile. He
might not get through there was only
one way to get through---his car out
there In front--a dash for It, though II
was certain that there wou Id be others
Of Baldy Vickers' crowd lurking out
there. too; he might not get through.
but II he did, there was way, too, to
save that 500 900, or, at least, to keep
10 II
In the dark, narrowed eyes there
came a CLINT OF humor--but It was
grim, deadly humor. They believed, OF
course, that he had the money in the
beg, since he would be credited with no
object for having already disposed Of
1t, the natural presumption being that,
with the money once in his possession,
he would make a run for it---and they
must continue to believe that--be given
no reason to believe otherwise. II was
dangerous, an added risk, but IL he
pretended to fall unwarily into their
trap, pretended to be unconscious that
there was, for instance, blackjack
waiting for him in his room, their sus-
picions would never be aroused--and
neither they nor any one else would ever
was not still in the bag as he dashed
from the house.
He was creeping forward again ST.
lently toward the door of his room. That
was logical. They would expect that.
They would expect him to creep In 81.
lently and stealthily, on account Of
Tooler upstairs-or, II they did not
exactly expect it, It would explain it
self in that very logical way to them
aftcrward.
Behind him now the door leading into
the hall was being opened cautiously, so
cautiously that he would not have heard
1t II he had not been listening for it,
expecting it. But he was Just at the
edge of the jamb Of his own door handle.
and, still retaining his grasp upon the
knob and standing in full view upon the
threshold. he pushed the door open to
the extent of his outstretched arm.
The slickest crook in the United
States, they had said he would make
He would try not to disappoint them.
His eyes swept the interior in
flash. A burly figure was crouched
low down against the wall within strik.
ing distance of the door, an ugly
looking. leather covered baton In his
Mott was not in sight.
1t was for the fraction of a second that
he stood thcre-no more--not long
enough for that crouching figure to re-
cover from its surprise.
"My Cod" gasped Dave Henderson,
in well simulated dismay: and. leaping
pulled shut the door, and
dashed for the door to the street.
There was yell from the room; it
was echoed by shout, and the pound
of racing feet from the rear Of the
hall. Dave Henderson wrenched the