Just then Harris and Ike rose and walked down on the other side of the place toward the door. Kennedy turned his head so that even if they should look in our direction they would not see his face. I did the same. Fortunately neither seemed interested in the other occupants. Harris having evidently fulfilled his mission, whether of delivering the package or receiving news which Ike seemed to be pouring into his ear, had but one thought, to escape from a place which was evidently distasteful to him. At the door they paused for a moment and spoke with the proprietor. He nodded reassuringly once or twice to Dr. Harris, much to the relief, I thought, of that gentleman.
Kennedy was chafing under the restraint which kept him in the background and prevented any of his wizardry of mechanical eavesdropping. I fancied that his roving eye was considering various means of utilizing his seemingly inexhaustible ingenuity if occasion should arise.
At last Harris managed to shake hands good-bye and disappeared up the steps to the sidewalk still followed by Ike.
Kennedy leaned over and looked the "dip" sitting alone back of us squarely in the face.
"Would you like to make twenty-five dollars—just like that?" he asked with a quick gesture that accorded very well with the slang.
The man looked at him very suspiciously, as if considering what kind of new game this was.
"That was your gun moll who just went out, wasn't it?" pursued Kennedy with assurance.
"Aw, come off. Whatyer givin' us?" responded the man half angrily.
"Don't stall. I know. I'm not one of the bulls, either. It's just a plain proposition. Will you or won't you take twenty-five of easy money?"
Kennedy's manner seemed to mystify him. For a moment he looked us over, then seemed to decide that we were all right.