“I’m meaning to read the letter to you first, and then later on you can pore over it yourself, making a mental photograph of the contents, so that every sentence can be recalled from memory upon occasion.”
This was the way Jack generally arranged things, for he knew just how to work so as to get Perk fully interested; and accustomed to the programme the other had never been known to take exception to Jack’s methods.
“I get yeou, partner,” was Perk’s comment; “it’s part o’ aour reg’lar programme to learn the big points o’ aour job, so we aint agoin’ to be rattled when we come to settle daown to work.”
“Now fix your mind on what I’m going to read, and forget everything else but the one business we’re being given to carry through.”
Accordingly Jack commenced, with Perk occasionally asking some pertinent question, which was cheerfully answered by the reader.
“Now,” observed Jack later on, “we’ve covered much that the Chief has had taken down by his stenographer; but the windup of the whole matter is the heart of the story; you want to hold your breath while I read it out to you, because, unless I miss my guess, you’re in for the biggest shock of your life.”
“Hot-diggetty-dig! that sounds right ser’us, partner, she shore do; but I’ll stiffen aout, grip the sides o’ my chair, an’ gulp it all in like a thirsty broncho would fresh water after comin’ in from the sandy desert. Hit ’er up!”
“Listen then to what he writes here,” Jack was saying, soberly, yet keeping an eye on Perk’s tell-tale face, which he never could wholly control: “‘The enclosed suggestions are clippings, and reports from some of our agents who had started out to track this ugly gang to its secret hideout. Taken collectively and individually they will convince you as to the character of many of the knotty problems you will have to solve before success can be your reward in smashing this new King Cole mob of law breakers, cattle thieves, bank robbers, and what-not along the line of up-to-date crime.
“‘So you will understand the magnitude of this business when I tell you it is not only suspected, but fully believed, this so-called King Cole is an old offender, sailing under a new name—none other than a clever convict whose escape from the Atlanta penitentiary some months ago has been purposely kept a state secret, in hopes of its being helpful in locating his whereabouts, and bringing him back to his empty cell, with the penalty of having his sentence lengthened on account of his flight—an arrangement that so far has not been in the least profitable or successful.
“‘You will understand what I mean when I tell you the name of this rascal, whom I remember you and your comrade had the high honor of bringing before the courts, and starting on the road to the Government institution—it is’”—Jack paused to watch Perk’s eager face, and then added with considerable force: “‘it is Slippery Slim Garrabrant!’”