“Now, you contemptible skunks,” began Joe, “listen to me. I’m going to get a written confession from you of this whole business. Put down, Jim, that matter of the anonymous letter. Don’t try to lie out of it, you scoundrel,” he said, as Braxton started to protest. “Put down, too, that hiring of the auto bandits to cripple me.” Here Braxton gave a violent start. “Put down that attempt to dope me in Chicago. That hits you on the raw, doesn’t it, Fleming?” he added, as the latter cringed still lower in his seat. “We’ll pass over the matter of hiring Bugs Hartley to do me up in St. Louis, for he may have done that on his own account. Now add this kidnaping incident and the record will be complete.”
Jim wrote rapidly and soon had the document ready.
“Now we’ll ask these gentlemen to sign,” said Joe, with exaggerated politeness.
“I won’t sign,” snarled Braxton, livid with rage.
“Oh, you won’t?” said Joe. “All right, Lieutenant——”
“I’ll sign,” said Braxton hastily.
Both he and Fleming signed, and Joe put the document carefully into his pocket.
“Now,” he said, “I have you rascals on the hip. Dare to make one other move against me as long as you live, and I’ll have you clapped into jail so quickly it will make your heads swim. I’ll put you where the dogs won’t bite you.”
Both Braxton and Fleming rose to their feet.
“Where are you going?” asked Joe, in apparent surprise.