“You’re wrong, old man,” muttered Patsy to himself. “I’m here, on the sneak.”
“Who?” asked Masson, anxiously.
“Patsy Murphy,” replied the other. “I dropped to him as soon as I saw him.”
“Are you sure?” asked Masson.
“You bet he’s sure,” said the other. “He’s been through Patsy’s hands, and he knows him.”
“That’s so,” said the first one, “and he left his mark on me so he’d know me again. I sneaked when I saw him.”
“Well, if that’s so,” said Masson, “it makes it all the more necessary that the thing moves as I have planned.
“This woman’s sister was killed last night.”
“No; the woman herself,” said one of the voices.
“Don’t contradict me,” said Masson. “It was the woman’s sister. I’ve got it straight. That may make some little trouble for me, but not much. It will make more if they get onto the other job.