“And there's still more, Maggie! You remember that charge of stick-up and attempted murder of a Chicago guy that the police are trying to land Larry on? I put that over! I'm the party that was messed up in that. I was trying to put over a neat little job all on my own; but something went wrong just as I thought I was cleaning out the sucker, and I had to be rough with that Chicago guy in order to make a get-away from him. I beat it straight to Barlow, and said that right here was the chance to fasten something on Larry. Barlow took my tip. My foot may have slipped on the original job, but my bean certainly did act quick, and you've got to admit I turned an apparent failure into something bigger than success would have been. And that's certainly traveling!”
“It certainly is!”
“And now, Maggie “—Barney pressed her eagerly—“I've shown you I'm just the sort you said a man had to be for you to tie up with him. I've shown you I can guarantee you police protection. And I've shown you I'm able to put over clever situations without any one ever guessing I'm the party who put 'em over. I fit all your specifications! How about our settling right now to join up some place—Toronto's the best bet—say three days after we make our get-away after to-night's clean-up? Let's be quick about this, Maggie—before Old Jimmie comes in. He's due any minute now!”
“Isn't that him at the door now?” breathed Maggie.
Both waited intently for a moment. But though she pretended so, Maggie's interest was not upon the outer door. Her attention was fixed, as it had been with sickening fear this last minute, upon that half-inch crack in the closet door behind Barney. Why had she, in her dismayed urgence, allowed Larry to possess himself of that closet key?—when her plan had been to keep Hannigan as well as Barlow forcibly behind the scenes until she had acted out her play? She now hoped almost against hope that Hannigan would not burst forth and ruin what was yet to come. Since that door unluckily had to be unlocked, her one chance was given her by the presence of Larry. Perhaps Larry could perceive the larger things she was striving for, and in some way restrain Hannigan.
These thoughts were but an instant in passing through her brain. Barney's eyes came back from the outer door to her face. “That's not Old Jimmie yet.”
“No,” her lips said. But her brain was saying, since the crack still remained a half-inch crack, “Larry understands—he's holding back Red Hannigan!”
Barney returned swiftly to his charge. “How about Toronto, Maggie—say exactly seventy-two hours from now—the Royal Brunswick Hotel?”
Maggie realized she could no longer put him off if she were to keep him unsuspicious for the next hour. Besides, in her desperate disillusionment concerning herself, she did not care what happened to her, or what people might think of her, if only she could keep this play going till its final moment.
“Yes,” she said—“if we each feel the same way toward each other when this evening's ended.”