“Good,” replied Matthews, with a relief that was very noticeable; “I was hard pressed by McCord and Radford. They’ve been after me for four days. I was told that if I didn’t produce you to-day, they’d take me to Police Headquarters, and they meant it.”
A meeting was arranged for five o’clock that afternoon, and Detective Kelso was to be there with McCord and Radford. It occurred to me that I might, through the little acquaintance with Kelso, who was associated with Tim Golden in the Walpole Bank investigation, adjust the present muddle more to my satisfaction. I was fast getting an interesting knowledge of the inside affairs of the New York Detective Bureau. So I earnestly hoped he would be one of the party.
I was at Fifth Avenue and Fifty-ninth Street, close to the entrance of Central Park, the meeting-place agreed upon, with great promptness, but I found the three detectives already in waiting. Jim Kelso had not forgotten our New England acquaintance, and greatly surprised me by the enthusiasm he displayed. I understood later that it was a characteristic of his to meet those friendly to him in this fashion, even on a shorter acquaintance, when there was a financial deal in prospect.
“Well, George,” said he, shaking my hand vigorously, “I’m glad to know you succeeded in giving those New Hampshire people the go-by.”
Then he introduced me to Jack McCord and George Radford, claiming them to be his very intimate friends, with whom I would be sure to have the most pleasant relations.
“They’re all right,” he said effusively, “and you’ll find them so.” He paused a moment, and then added, with a smile, “I understand we’ve got some bonds to sell you.”
“To sell me?” I echoed his words in the form of a question. “To sell me bonds?”
“Yes,” smiled Kelso. I understood him then, but I confess that I didn’t like his peculiar grin that time, and in subsequent years this impression never changed. There wasn’t much, if any, warmth in it. It always seemed to me that it was a smile like actors study for use on the stage. I laughed when I understood him to mean that he had some bonds to sell to me. I thought it was my play to exhibit a little nerve in dealing with these traitors, which was a most unpleasant experience the first time, so I asked Kelso why McCord and Radford hadn’t hung on to Billy Matthews when they had him under arrest. He showed his teeth in a most disagreeable way, and seemed to be on the point of saying something ugly. Presently he spoke:—
“There’s no good beating about the bush, George,” he explained, “for we know where the bonds came from, and we also know that you are one of the six men in the Ohio job. Now let’s come to the point, and it is this, pure and simple—we want our rake-off. As a matter of fact, we’re glad the Ohio fellers didn’t get you. Do you understand?”
I saw there was little profit to me in palavering with these crooks, who were sworn to serve law and justice, so I told them that we’d better get to business and that the open street was no sort of a place to transact it. They admitted that officers of the precinct in which we were might at any moment interrupt us. I called a carriage, and at their suggestion we drove to Stetson’s Hotel in Central Park, the proprieter being a brother-in-law of Radford. Comfortably seated in a private room, with whiskey served on the table before us, I said:—