"No, he won't hurt him," replied the gambler with scornful sarcasm. "Not a bit. He'll probably take him in his lap and sing him to sleep."
"This is dangerous business," objected Baldwin nervously. "We might all get into trouble."
"We're all in trouble now," snapped Edwards. "You leave the trouble end of it to me."
The taxi slackened its pace as it approached the police station and Baldwin climbed out under the lights that marked it as the home of the paid guardians of the people's rights and liberties.
"Don't fall down this time," warned the gambler. "If this don't go through, the newspapers will have some fine information to print in the next few days."
"I'll fix it, Ed, I'll frame it all right," replied Baldwin nervously.
The mention of his name and the imposing manner he had assumed won for him immediate entrance to the captain's private room, and after ten minutes of earnest conversation, Baldwin emerged, the gray-haired official with the gilt stars and chevrons escorting him and shaking hands with him at the street door.
"Don't forget, Raferty," said Baldwin importantly. "I want him kept close until I can get the proof we need. Don't let any lawyers or reporters get near him and keep your cops from gossiping. You won't lose anything by it, Raferty. Drop down and see me sometime. I'd like to talk the political situation over with you. You understand?"
Meantime the taxicab, with Edwards inside, had raced across the upper portion of the city to the place where Big Jack was pacing the shadowy part of the sidewalk half a block from Baldwin's home.
"He hasn't come out yet," Jack reported, stepping into the light as the taxi slowed down and crept along near the gutter.