“You still think she knows?”
“She must know. She heard all that infernal squealer said.”
“But who is this fellow?”
“He helped me get her. He’s all right, too,” Magill forcibly asserted. “Get out, Dolan, and shake hands with Tom Gridley, more often called Ginger Gridley. You’ll find him full of ginger, too, if you cross him badly. He’s all right, Tom, and I couldn’t have got the skirt without his help. He hired the car with some money I gave him and——”
“Come inside,” Gridley interrupted, extending his hand to Patsy. “It’s all right, Dolan, if you’re all that Magill says you are.”
“I’m all that, and something more,” Patsy coolly assured him. “You can bank on me as long as I’m used right.[Pg 31]”
“You’ll have no kick coming, Dolan, if you’re handing us straight goods,” replied Gridley. “If not——”
“Nothing doing in the if-not line,” put in Patsy tersely.
“This way, then. Lock the door, Phelan.”
The last was addressed to the fourth man of the gang, while Patsy followed them into the house. He heard the ominous click of the lock when Phelan turned the key. It told him there was no retreat, no backing out of the hazardous undertaking into which he had fearlessly ventured.