“Scatter!”
It seemed impossible to ascertain where the boy had put in his time between the hour of leaving the hotel and the hour of his disaster.
The address was that of a cheap lodging house off the Bowery, but little could be learned there.
The tough clerk said that the boy had talked with one or two lodgers, and gone away.
“A warning from the syndicate,” said Chick. “They are up to date in their methods, it appears.”
There was silence between the two as they walked back to the house from which the jar had fallen.
“It was intended murder,” said Chick. “Just a cold-blooded crime.”
“Well?”
“The syndicate had bribed him and used him, and were afraid he would not keep his tongue between his teeth,” said Chick.
“Don’t jump at conclusions,” said Nick. “Accidents of this sort are not uncommon in New York.”