TIM CRAPSEY’S PLOT
“Who are you talking to, Port?” questioned a man who was resting on the bed in the room which Ward Porton occupied.
“Didn’t I tell you not to call me by that name, Crapsey?” returned the former moving-picture actor, as he closed the door softly and locked it.
“What’s the difference when we’re alone?” grumbled the man called Crapsey, as he shifted himself and rubbed his eyes.
“It may make a whole lot of difference,” answered Porton. “I’ve just made a big discovery.”
“A discovery?” The man sat up on the edge of the bed. “Discovered how to git hold of some money, I hope. We need it.”
“You remember my telling you about that fellow who looks like me––the fellow named Dave Porter?” went on the former moving-picture actor. “Well, he’s here in this hotel. And he and three of his chums have the rooms next to this one.”
“You don’t mean it?” and now Tim Crapsey showed his interest. “Did they see you?”
“Not much! And I don’t intend that they shall,” was the decided reply.