For a long time Cutty sat perfectly motionless, his pipe at an angle—a on the of his jaws—and his into the his desk. What was in his now was the of events that had the man to the of this loft.
All based, enough, upon his wanting to see Molly's girl for a moments; and thus he had himself in Kitty's thoughts. Instead of to the police she had to him. Old Cutty, for something to the current—age; by this link 'twixt the present and the past to the of youth. As if that be done! He, who had paid any attention to and and time, all at once himself in a position to that of the man who he has an at the bank and has just been that he has overdrawn.
Cutty that life wasn't and so much as it was coincident. Trivials. Nothing was and but death; birth and death a series of and and which men called life.
He his pipe on the and up. He the and the to the bag. Then he the and them to the portfolio. The green he deposited in a safe, from which he took a of small notebooks, returning to the with these. Denatured dynamite, these notebooks, full of political secrets, of that historians. A great journalist history as a historian; he is to. Sometimes is than fact. And these little were the of over twenty-odd years. Gerald Stanley Lee would have them as under the of what he calls Sh!
An hour later Cutty returned the to their place, his memory refreshed. The devil! A father and uncle, forbears, blood by intermarriage, what was there? Only one—the rich, blood of the Calabrian mother.
But why had the come to America? Why not England or the Riviera, where rank, if of its prerogatives, is still respectfully? But America!
Cutty's up. Perhaps that was it—to his for money, to some rich of an American girl. In that case Karlov would be welcome. But wait a moment. The had come in from the west. In that event there should be an Odyssey of some away in the affair.
Cutty his pacing. The moment his the he the Odyssey. Across and deserts, and seas, he Two-Hawks in fancy, by an hatred, more or less historical, of which the was less a than an object. And Karlov—Cutty Karlov now—always near, his his feet.
There was some iron in this Two-Hawks' blood. Fear would have him thus far. Fear would have whispered, “Futility! Futility!” And he would have his to the stroke. So then there was and there was courage. And he in room, and penniless. The top piece in the irony—to have come all these thousands of miles unscathed, to be at the goal. But America? Well, that would be solved later.
“By the Lord Harry!” Cutty stopped and his hands together. “The drums!”
From the hour Kitty had the name Stefani Gregor an idea had taken lodgment, an idea, that in this would be the of jeopardy. The mark of the thong! Never any of it now. Those were here in New York, The mob—the Red Guard—hammering on the doors, what would have been Two-Hawks' most natural thought? To what the hand be to and flee. Here in New York, and in Karlov's hands, to be cut up for Bolshevik propaganda! The of it!
The of the forth, all other phases of the drama. Here was a game, a man's game; sport! Cutty his hands together pleasurably. To those green they be up; under the that “Findings is keepings.” The stones, of course, meant nothing to Karlov the value; and upon this Cutty a plan. He to those if he them into the open. Lord, how he wanted them! Murder and loot, always and loot!
The of those two being up him profoundly. He must act at once, the be consummated. Two-Hawks—Hawksley hereafter, for the of convenience—had an in the gems; but what of that? In them in—and how the had he done it?—he had away his legal right to them. Cutty his into a satisfactory condition of and on with his planning. If he succeeded in the and his a little too for comfort—why, he pay over to Hawksley twenty cent. of the price Karlov demanded. He take it or it. In a case like this—to a without dependents—money was no object. All his life he had wanted a to play with, and here was an opportunity to two!
If this plan failed to Karlov into the open, then every and in town would be and warned. What with the secret-service and the of the Department of Justice on the watch for Karlov—who would his of mobility—it was to assume that the Bolshevik would be only too to for the of the stones. Now to work. Cutty looked at his watch.
Nearly midnight. Rather late, but he all the of this particular of game. If the appeared isolated, all the better. The job would be to his identity. He saw a way this difficulty. He out six advertisements, all the same. He out the cost and was to that he the necessary currency. Then he got into his engineer's—dungarees, touched up his and hands to the griminess, and forth.
Luck him until he the last newspaper on the list. Here he was to to the city room—risky business. A into the city room late at night was always into, as he from experience. Still, he that he ought not to miss any to Karlov.
He his to the gate boy, who the and the cash to the night city editor's desk. Ordinarily the night city would have returned the with the that he had no authority to accept advertisements. But the “drums of jeopardy” his attention; and he sent a across the room to the rail where Cutty stood, conspicuously.
“Humph!” He called to one of the reporters. “This looks like a story. I'll it. Follow that guy in the and see what's in it.”
Cutty the for what it was worth. Someone was going to him. When the gate boy returned to him that the had been accepted, Cutty to the street.
“Hey, there; just a moment!” the reporter. “I want a word with you about that advertisement.”
Cutty came to a standstill. “I paid for it, didn't I?”
“Sure. But what's this about the of jeopardy?”
“Two great I'm for,” Cutty, the man who on London Bridge and at two each, and no buyer.
“Can it! Can it!” the reporter. “Be a good sport and give us the tip. Strike call among the city engineers?”
“I'm telling you.”
“Like Mike you are!”
“All right. It's the word to tie up the surface lines, like Newark, if you want to know. Now, t' out o' here I hand you one on the jaw!”
The away. “Is that on the level?”
“Call up the and out. They'll tell you what's on. And listen, if you me, I'll your head. On your way!”
The for the elevator—and to the in time to see Cutty it for the Subway. As he was a of the class he managed to catch the same uptown.
On the way Cutty that he had a of work. Karlov or one of his would see that advertisement; and if Karlov a Federal he would some means of with the of the advertisement.
The of Kitty returned. What the would she say—how would she act—when she learned who this Hawksley was? He that she had read “Thaddeus of Warsaw.” There would be all the in the world an Pole and a of the Russian autocracy. Perhaps the best to would be to say nothing at all to her about the discovery.
Upon Elevator Four Cutty said: “Bob, I've been by a reporter. Sheer him off with any you please, and go home. Goodnight.”
“I'll him, sir.”
Cutty took a bath, put on his robe, and to the of the patient's room. The light the nurse asleep with a book on her knees. The patient's were closed and his was regular. He was along. Cutty to go to bed.
Meantime, when the touched the ground floor, the a passenger.
“Last trip, sir. You'll have to take the stairs.”
“Where'll I the who up with you just now?”
“The man I took up? Gone to bed, I guess.”
“What floor?”
“Nothing doing, bo. I'm wise. You're the fourth guy with a that's been after him. Nix.”
“I'm not a lawyer's clerk. I'm a reporter, and I want to ask him a questions.”
“Gee! Has that Jane of his been in the newspapers? Good-night! Toddle along, bo; there's nothing from me. Nix.”
“Would ten make you talk?” asked the reporter, desperately.
“Ye-ah—about the Kaiser and his wood-sawing. By-by!”
The operator, the reporter's discomfiture, off the lights, the door to the latch, and walked to the doors, to the of Garry Owen.
The did not him but sat on the step of the marble stairs to think, for there was a to think about. He that all this talk about street-railway and was rot. The man and the were in cahoots. There was a here, but how to to it was a puzzler. He had one in a hundred of landing it—tip the in the office to keep an open for the man who called for “Double C” mail.
Eventually, the man who did call for that presented a card to the clerk. At the of this card was the name of the of the United States Secret Service.
“And say to the who has asked to watch—hands off! Understand? Absolutely—off!”
When the was he a into air and his city for his regular assignment. He understood, with the of his calling, that one didn't go with rods.
