“The club’s all right,” admitted Yates, “but I’m thinking about that gambling joint that is over it. Swell-looking place and all that — but it’s equipped for roulette and faro in a big way.”
“You have raided it?” asked Cruikshank.
“No,” returned Yates. “I’ve been watching it. Seems to be all right when I’ve got my eye on it, but at other times I’m doubtful.”
A laugh of disdain came from Coates. The mayor turned toward the real-estate man and spoke severely.
“Chief Yates is an efficient man,” he declared. “I shall tolerate no criticism of his work. I have faith and confidence in him. If necessary, I shall advise an increase of the force.”
“I’m not criticizing the chief,” protested Coates hastily. “I just don’t see why he should be worrying about places that he can’t find wrong. There’s too much real trouble in Seaview.”
“We discussed the matter of an increased force,” interposed Louis Helwig. “I don’t think that we should bring up that matter again — for the present at least. I think that when Chief Yates locates the real sources of evil, he will be able to cope with them. If he needs men then, let him have them.”
Nods of approval were the response of the other members. Rufus Cruikshank summed up the opinion by giving an approving nod, and announced that the meeting was adjourned.
AS Mayor Cruikshank walked from the Green Room, Police Chief Yates accompanied him. The mayor received his silk hat and donned it. He was the personification of dignity as he strolled toward the board walk, carrying his gold-headed cane.
Cruikshank noted that Yates was about to head in the other direction. He stopped the chief with a gesture. Yates followed him down an incline, and they stopped by the mayor’s parked limousine.