"We were expecting to meet a friend here to-night," remarked Swanson, deciding to take a new tack with the bartender. "Rather tall, slender young fellow. Has anyone been in?"
"Young fellow came in a while ago something like that," replied the bartender. "Seemed to be expecting someone, but turned around and went out. Maybe that was him."
They knew he was lying, and Swanson, without changing expression, said:
"Must have thought he was in the wrong place, or too early. Maybe he'll come back. We'll stick around awhile."
Had they known what was transpiring in the private room just beyond the doorway their interest would have been greater. The big man who had stood at the end of the bar had gone at the first opportunity and was reporting to Easy Ed Edwards, who grew venomous with hate, while Williams sat shaking with fright.
"I knew they'd get on. If they report to Clancy I'm done for," he said.
"Shut up," ordered the gambler angrily. "They haven't seen you and they don't know I'm here. Who are they, Jack?"
"I don't know dem," said the ex-fighter. "Dey's a big, husky lookin' guy, a Dutchman, I guess, wid a blue suit"——
"It's Swanson," said Williams. "He's been looking at me as if he knew something for two or three days. He has followed me here."
"De oder one is a smaller, wiry sort o' guy. Got on a light suit"——