"Hell! Didn't you frisk him?" roared the Chief.
"Sure! But we missed his gun."
"Caesar carries it on a cord around his neck—nigger-fashion," briefly explained O'Connell.
Dean was running on excitedly: "I heard Johnson holler, but before I could get out into the street Maruffi had shot him twice and was into that alley yonder. I tried to follow, but lost him, so I came back and sent in the alarm."
The Acting Chief cursed under his breath, and with a few sharp orders hurried off the few officers who had reached the scene. Then as an ambulance appeared he passed into the room where Johnson lay. As he emerged a moment later O'Connell drew him aside.
"Maruffi won't try to leave town till it's good and dark," he said.
"He's got a girl, and I've an idea he'll ask her to hide him out."
"It was his girl who turned him up—she and Blake—"
O'Connell cried, sharply: "Wait! Does he know she did that? If he does, he'll make for her, sure."
"That may be. Those two women are all alone, and I'd feel better if they were safely out of the way. I'll leave you there on the way back."
An instant later they were clattering over the uneven flags while their vehicle rocked and bounded in a way that threatened to hurl them out.