She looked toward them pleadingly, anxiously. Brennan was sitting on the edge of the davenport, his body bent forward, his elbows on his knees, gazing intently at the girl.
"A crook can't think straight all the time," he said, quietly. "'Gink' Cummings has made his mistake."
CHAPTER XVII
The story told by Evelyn Hatch—Evelyn was her given name—was twice repeated by John and Brennan the next day, first to P. Q. and then to the publisher of their paper. It was decided that Hatch's own story should be obtained and, if possible, put in affidavit form. Following their conferences with P. Q. and the "chief" they went directly to the county jail where "Big Jim" was brought down from his cell at their request.
He greeted them genially, offering them cigars as they led him to a quiet corner of the reception room.
"I always try to be a good scout with newspaper men," Hatch said, smiling. "I've had considerable experience with reporters and I've always found them square and fair. And, without speaking personally, of course, I can tell you that you reporters do more to eradicate crime than all the police in the country."
"Hatch," said Brennan, ignoring the compliment, "we've had a talk with your wife."
"You promised me you'd let her alone," said "Big Jim" sharply.