“All right.”
“And there is to be no slugging.”
“Suppose he wakes up and kicks?”
“Snatch all there is in sight and git out.”
“I guess I’ll run the job in my own way,” growled Parks. “I was in the business when Gilmore was working on a farm.”
“Suit yourself.”
The men were so busy talking, and the night was so dark and rainy, that they did not notice that one cab passed them several times, went on south for a block or two on each occasion, and then turned north again.
The man seated in the cab strained his ears each time in the endeavor to hear what the men in the other vehicle were saying, but he could only catch a word now and then.
The pursuing cab finally fell in behind the other, and the two vehicles proceeded together at a fast trot toward Thirty-ninth Street.
There Parks and Nixon got out, and without once looking around to see if they were followed, walked rapidly toward Forty-third Street.