Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1922-04-16


Bode," he said. you can't have It."
~ \ X
THE lawyer laid his blocky hands
! upon the table In front Of him. A
vein swelled in his pallid forehead.
and he spoke with the utmost delib-
Grafton.
my name doesn't happen to be
Bode. Mr.. Bode is out of town in
definitely. I took up this matter prin-
cipaily because some other people
were likely to go to foolish extremes
was satisfied 1t could be done easily
and quietly. 1 must have that memo
randum book"
He paused a moment. his malevo-
lent eyes hard upon the astonished
young man. Then he opened the left
hand drawer of the desk and took out,
one by one, ten bundles Of banknotes,
each bound with a strip of paper.
which he piled up in the middle of
the table.
There are ten thousand dollars
two years salary" he observed coldly.
Take it and give me the book. No
body knows you're here; nobody
KNOWS LII mere iou re perleSIy
SAFE
The color rose In Trumbulls face,
but he spoke coolly. Nothing doing.
Mr. Whats-your-name"
! The vein swelled again in the elder
mans foreheadp"You gave your word
to Pete German that you wouldn't
show that book to anybody for five
days." he said.
That's true enough" the reporter
retorted. $50, he'd have time to skip
to Europe. You see. that's why 1
can't let you have it. I promised
Pete I wouldn't let anybody have it,"
But the bogus lawyer seemed to have
no sense of humor.
"If the big blockhead hadn't tipped
it off to his pal, Clancy, so Clancy
could skip, too, you'd never have
known / had it until you saw it on
the front page of the Trumpet"
Trumbull added.
agreed But Clancy, having more
sand and sense than Pete German,
instead of skipping out, went at once
to those who could protect him, and
themselves. too"
II sea plantw said the reporter.
He recalled how Clancy had way
laid him as he left the newspaper
office and told him that Albert C.
Bode of 90 Traverse street-last door
to the right on the third aoor-had
! important information in corrobora-
ton of Germans confession which he
was anxious to impart to the press.
He realized, with humiliation. that
he ought to have been on his guard.
But Clancy had explained that Pete
German had given him tip so NE
could save himself; that he was going
to skip tomorrow, and he had been so
hot for the news that he had jumped
right into the trap.
"A plant" the bogus Mr.. Bode as
sented calmly. But the point is. the
Trumpet doesn't know there is any
such book. Why should it ever know
1t pays you a hundred dollars a week
now; it may fire you any time for any
trifiing cause. 1t it doesn't fire you.
it will take the juice out of you as a
man squeezes lemon and throw the
rind into the garbage can without a
moments hesitation. Don't be fool.
Take the money, hand over the book.
and forget it"
He made the argument rather con-
temptuously.
What you say about the newspaper
Is true enough" the reporter admitted
thoughtfully.
The bogus lawyer nodded. Ger
tainIy it is. Then, why not?''
why. there isn't any reason"
Trumbull replied thoughtfully. "There
isn't any reason at all, Mr.. Bode-
or whatever your name is. Only I'm
not built that way. Every reason is
in favor Of my taking the money, but
I'd see you in hell before I'd touch a
bill"
THE elder man leaned back in the
swivel chair.
Think it over a WHILE" he advised
deliberately. You can see where you
are. This building is empty. No
body knows you're here. You cannot
go out of this room until you give up
that red memorandum book-unless."
he added, pointing toward the corner,
you go out in that trunk"
In a flash Trumbull realized the
vault-like room, practically sound
proof, and the empty building with
only the thug in the outer office and
this person opposite knowing he was
there. Staring across the table, he
was surprised that he had ever sat
down alone in this mans presence
his square gray face with the fiat
nose, the narrow eyes and ugly little
fpI1 in
lip, looked so murderous.
After a minute the elder man ex-
planned: I'D a little rather you went
out in the trunk than walked out.
It's myself I'm thinking of. I know
you can never kill a man without
some small risk. So I hope you'll
take the money"
Trumbull leaped to his feet, putting
his hand in his pocket.
Mr. Bode,1 or Mr.. What's-your-
name" he declared, anybody who
tries to stop me from getting out Of
here will get a hole bored through
him"
For the first time the bogus lawyer
smiled, just enough to lift the disfig-
ured, gray matched upper lip from
large yellow teeth. And somehow
Trumbull remembered how, when he
had been talking with Clancy. man
had stumbled against him and paved
over him. He had thought Of pick
pocket and felt for his watch. He
now understood that it had been a
scout searching him for concealed
weapons. OF course, Mr.. Bode knew
he was unarmed. The reporter
.<nnoed o1,ar RI tho chair whera HIS