Evening star., 1923-08-09
CHAPTER VIII.
THE HOLD-UP.


Hickey took Greg to q restaurant
on Sd avenue that to him represented
the ne plus ultra in eating places. IL
was called Dicks on its signboardS,
or Greasy Dicks" in affection by its
habitues. Whenever a restaurant
gets a derisive nickname like this
you may be sure it is a good one.
Within there was double row OF
mahogany tables end to against the
side walls. leaving an aisle in the
middle up and down which paraded
the Sociable walters. who published
each mans order to the kitchen in the
voices of stentors. Greg and Hickey
sat down together; elegantly dressed
young gentleman and shabby owl
driver, and such was the democratic
spirit of Dicks that mono paid the
least attention.
They ordered an extra double sir
loin with onions, the most expensive
dish the bin Of fare afforded. 1t was
Il treat to hear the impressiveness
with which the order was transmitted
10 the kitchen. On the way to the
restaurant Greg had stopped at :.
stationer's to buy a map of Long
Island. and while they waited FOR
their meal he studied it.
whats the program for tonight:
asked Hickey.
"HoIding-up a dead wagon" said
Greg with an entirely serious air.
Hickey fell back in his seat aghast.
What"
Greg laughed.
Hickey Shrugged philosophically.
''Oh. we'll, you're the pilot" he said,
ITS UP to YOU. Remember I'm a
nervous man; that's all:
10 int Of ffr Il i
Gated Silver Pond on the map.
"There's our mark" said he. We
cross the Wttliamsburgh bridge and
leave Long Island City by Van Buren,
avenue. The rest is easy. The ere
matorys not marked on the map
whats crematory?" interrupted
Hickey. "Auythin' like a creamery
Not much like it." said Greg.
: We'll 70 to the railway station and
inquire from there. l suppose l ought
to have a gun---
Good God. what for?"
How can you pull off hold-np
without a gum
Then you mean it, hold-up?"
Surest thing YOU know.
"Iordy, Iordy," murmured Hickey,
"W hat a fellow you are! You'll have
to attend to the gun-play yourself.
II will. l dont mean to use it
really. just fash it. We've got a
little all-steel monkey wrench that
will give perfect imitation of an
automatic in the dark. That will do.
We must fill up the f1ivver with gas,
put in quart of oil, and let down
the top"
why the top" asked Hickey.
IT'S cold"
You'll see We have to have sixty
or seventy feet of rope. too.
rs anybody going to he hanged?"
asked Hickey, with sh1Ver.
road"
Replete and glowing inside. they
lighted big cigars and returned to the
fivver. Having filled up with gas
and oil and bought the rope, they left
town by the route indicated. The
journey to Silver Pond was without
incident. Having plenty of time they
lot the old fiivver roll at her natural
gait along the suburban highways.
Silver Pond marked the limit of the
suburbs in this direction; beyond was
the open country.
They reached the station at twenty
minutes to nine. The agents office
was closed, but there were several
Here Greg applied for information.
What time does the train get here
that brings the-er-bodies to the
rrematory?' he asked, looking as
much like a bereaved relative as he
could
"Nine-three." was the reply. Eek
pectin' somebody ?-this with a
sympathetic air.
Greg nodded lugubriously. and the
bartender shook his head in sympa-
thetic unison. "Whatll You have?"