"Then you can take a hundred to one shot tip from me, Jimmie, that this Burke had something to do with Shepard. He may have put one of his friends on the job. Those cops are not such dummies as we think they are sometimes. That fellow's a dangerous man."
Clemm pondered for a moment. Jimmie was surprised, for the manager of the "Mercantile Agency" was noted for his rapid-fire methods. The Monk knew that something of great importance must be afoot to cause this delay.
The manager tapped the desk with his fingers, as he moved his lips, in a silent little conversation with himself. At last he banged the desk with vehemence.
"Here, Jimmie. I'm going to entrust you with an important job."
The Monk brightened and smiled hopefully.
"How much money would it take to put Officer Bobbie Burke, if that's his name, where the cats can't keep him awake at night?"
Jimmie looked shiftily at the manager.
"You mean..."
He drew his hand significantly across his throat, raising his heavy eyebrows in a peculiar monkey grimace which had won for him his soubriquet.
"Yes, to quiet his nerves. It's a shame to let these ambitious young policemen worry too much about their work."