It was upon entering the vast span that Nickie Fallon made known to Skippy his resolve. After that he lapsed into a long silence, looking past his new-found pal and out upon the gleaming concrete lanes that flanked them on both sides. His too-bright eyes seemed to roam through space and for a moment his gaze rested on the giant cables that stretched between sky and water like monstrous birds poised for flight.
Skippy had no doubt but that Nickie’s thoughts were also on flight. The detectives, however, seemed not to be cognizant of it, for they were laughing and talking in low tones and apparently easy in mind about the safety of their charges.
Dusk was settling and the broad plaza on the New Jersey side of the bridge was resplendent with the last rays of the setting sun. Very swiftly they left it behind and whisked down under a broad concrete arch which brought them to a highway practically devoid of traffic.
“Ain’t many people travelin’ our way,” a boy commented on the farther side of the seat. He was no more than sixteen, red-haired and with small blue eyes.
“Dippy Donovan’s his name,” Fallon informed Skippy immediately. “He drew a year for wreckin’ the principal’s office in school. Twict he done the same thing so now he’s got his bit. I don’t see doin’ a stretch for anything like that. At least I got some dough outa what I done—how about you?”
“Yeah,” Skippy murmured. And in order to divert the conversation from himself, he asked, “Who’s the kid next you an’ who’s the one ’long-side him?”
“Greek pickpockets—Shorty an’ Biff; don’t ast me their last names! I can’t pronounce ’em.”
Skippy grinned and turned his head away looking off into the dusk. He was thinking that everything had gone fine so far and his behavior must certainly have impressed Nickie, for that youthful transgressor seemed to have accepted him at face value as one of his own kind.
It was during these reflections that Skippy noticed the detective sitting up in the seat beside the driver. He was a thin, lanky sort of man with hollow eyes and just at that moment he was glancing at the boys. Presently his gaze rested on Skippy and without warning he pursed his lips significantly and a look flashed from his eyes that the boy immediately understood.
One of Mr. Conne’s men!