“I don’t know––it’s the one you gave me while I was Officer 666.”
Gladwin tossed the cigar to the thief, who caught it deftly and inserted it between his lips. “And here’s some more of your possessions,” added the young man, drawing out the bribe money he had accepted while he masqueraded in the officer’s uniform.
“Thanks,” said Wilson, as he caught the money, “and here’s your little yellow boy, though I wish that intellectual giant of a cop were here so I could hire his uniform for a bit.”
“You amaze me by your generosity,” murmured Gladwin as he pocketed the $500 bill.
“Oh,” said the other easily, while he again listened at the door. “I’m not a regular crook––I’m in the picture business.”
“Still, if you kept that bill it might help you get better accommodations when you reach Sing Sing.”
“If I don’t need it till then I won’t need it for a long, long time.”
“You mean you think you’re going to escape?”
Gladwin slid down from the table and leaned against it, making no effort to conceal the admiration he experienced for this man’s superhuman aplomb.