“For crying out loud!” he gasped. “Now that’s what I call a damn smart idea. How did you think of it?”
“I thought of it,” I said.
He took out his comb, lifted his hat, combed his hair.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “What makes you think Maxison will play, and suppose they recognize you at the jail?”
“Maxison will play,” I said quietly. “Tim tells me he has a daughter. I don’t want to do this, but I have to. We’re going to hold his daughter as hostage. If he tries to double-cross me, we’ll threaten to knock the girl off.”
Davis’s small eyes popped.
“We’re gangsters now, eh?” he said. “Jeeze! I don’t think I like this much.”
“You can duck out whenever you like,” I said, shrugging. “Hetty will look after the girl. It’s just a threat. I must have some hold on him.”
“Don’t be a sissy,” Tim said to Davis. “You’ve always looked like a gangster. It’s time you acted like one.”
Davis grunted. “Well, okay,” he said. “Kidnapping carries the death sentence now. Who cares?”