“Will they be back again to-night?” asked Randy.
Yes, the boy said they usually returned a little after midnight and sat up quarrelling usually. Randy fancied he saw his chance. He told the boy he would let him have the two dollars and would see that he got a better job, if he would let him share the little den he occupied back of the stage.
Randy did not entirely explain to the lad what he was after when he made his second visit, after leaving his friends at the Standard. The boy, however, had little love for his swindling employers and did not much care. It was thus that, an hour later, Randy found himself just where he wanted to be—in a room adjoining the office of the New Idea.
About one o’clock Slavin and Trudelle came into the office apartment. The latter acted reckless and as if he was under the influence of drink. Slavin began to upbraid him for gambling away some money he had taken from the box office.
“Huh! what you got to kick about?” growled Trudelle. “You’ve got that big film. You say it’s a fortune. Why don’t you turn it into cash?”
“Yes, I’ve got it and I intend to keep it,” retorted Slavin. “I’ll tell you one thing: If you don’t straighten up I’ll quit and get to a place where I can find my price for that little piece of property.”
“It’s half mine. Aren’t we partners?” demanded Trudelle. There was some fierce bickering, he shook his fist in his partner’s face and Slavin picked up a chair and knocked him flat.
All this Randy saw and overheard, crouched close to the partition which had several cracks in it. He noticed Slavin glance viciously and then uneasily at the senseless man on the floor. Then he went over to the desk, opened it, and began hurriedly to ransack its drawers, selecting several papers and stowing them in his pocket. Suddenly Slavin, as if seized with some urgent idea, shouted out:
“Jim—hey, you boy Jim, come in here.”
“Go ahead,” whispered Randy. “See what he wants.”