“Easy cash, eh? What’d you say the dame’s name was?”
“Merriweather—Molly Merriweather. She’s companion to Mr. King’s mother.”
“Jinnie fiddles all the afternoon.... Mebbe she won’t go.”
“Yes, she will. Tell her Miss Merriweather wants her to arrange a surprise for Theodore King. Tell ’er Miss Merriweather wants her to play.” 232
Bates laughed evilly.
“That’ll fix the huzzy. Anything about that damn fiddle’ll fetch ’er every time! When I get ’er I’ll bust it up for kindlin’ wood.”
“Then it’s settled,” said Morse, rising. “You go this afternoon at three o’clock to Grandoken’s, tell Jinnie what I told you to, get the cobbler into an argument, and I’ll do the rest.”
“You’ll be sure to be there?”
“Of course! What’d you think I am? Keep your mouth shut! Be sure of that.”
“Three o’clock, then,” said Maudlin, getting up. “So long!” and lifting his wood, he went on his way rejoicing.