CHAPTER X
IN THE FARMHOUSE
The conversation which had been cut off from Harry Vincent’s hearing continued long after he had gone. In fact, from the very moment of the interruption, it had assumed angles of great interest.
Harry had heard only the preliminaries. The real event began when the younger man entered into the details of his story. But there were no listeners in the vicinity when he reached that important point.
“I had to give him the rod,” the man said. “All the way down, I knew that would be the only way out.
“I listened in when he made that call from the Grand Central Terminal. I trailed him across New York and got on the same train to Philly. At the Pennsylvania Station.
“He got off at North Philly and took a cab. I hopped another taxi, but dropped off a few blocks away from the boarding house. Then I sneaked over to the place. When I caught Jarnow, he was spilling the dope to Henry Windsor. Those two shots I gave him sounded like a cannon.”
“Henry Windsor wasn’t wise to anything?” questioned the old man.
“Not a thing,” replied the self-admitted murderer. “He was soused. That helped. I came in the door of the house, and up the stairs without a hitch.
“Opening the door of the room was slow work. Jarnow must have put the key in his pocket; so I had luck with the skeleton key. But when he saw me sliding around the edge, closing the door behind me, I thought he was going to drop dead.