“You were already out of the door. But I heard him distinctly. The others told him to keep quiet.”
“They had more reason to than they knew,” said Sheridan. “I suppose the guy has been stealing cotton and is ready for a little cotton auction.”
“What will you do about it?” demanded Willie, afire in a moment at the suggestion of another adventure.
“Don’t know whether I’ll do anything. All we are interested in is smugglers. The cotton comes from the South, you know, so there is no question of smuggling. It’s simply a case of larceny.”
“Then I suppose you’ll report the case to the police and let them arrest the man.”
Unwittingly Willie had touched a sore spot. He had yet to learn about the power of professional jealousy. But he had his first lesson at once.
“Not on your life,” said Sheridan. “We’ll grab him ourselves. The cops would bungle the whole business and give out a fine fairy story of how they discovered the theft. We’ll just keep an eye on that bird and see who he is.”
“What are you going to do? Go back into the restaurant?”
“No, we’ll just trail him after he comes out. This time you’ll have to help me, for I don’t know which one of the gang it was who said he had the cotton.”
“You bet I’ll help you,” said Willie, delighted to be of real assistance at last.