“That’s the bargain.”
“Well, I thought of that and dashed off this.”
Another bit of paper fell on the table and Claude read:
“FATAL ACCIDENT.
“Last night at ten o’clock a man was seen to fall on the street near the Brussel Block, on Broadway. His companion, apparently frightened by his fall, hastened away, leaving his friend on the pavement. It was discovered that the stricken man was a well-known character named George Richmond, who of late has been subject to attacks of vertigo. The unfortunate man was conveyed from the spot by others who happened to know him, and taken to the rooms of a friend, where he died. Richmond once did time, but of late has not done anything that called for his arrest, though he was known as a shady character, liable to embark on some scheme that promised to add to his wealth, no matter how questionable the transaction.”
“That’s good!” exclaimed Claude Lamont. “You’re dead—as dead as a doornail, and please have the kindness to keep this in view. I don’t think you could have done better. Now, what newspaper?”
“I’ve made the proper arrangements. You can take it to the Item. It will cost one hundred to get it inserted, but that’s all right. It’s dirt cheap.”
Claude placed the writing in his pocket and smiled.
“It will hoodwink the old man nicely. He won’t want other ‘proof.’”
“I thought not.”