"Yes," she gasped, "and it's straight."
Slim relaxed.
"From your father?"
She nodded.
"How in—"
"I don't know," she said, "but he was sure he'd have a stool with you to-night. He's tried so long I know he wasn't bragging. Slim! We can't trip up now. I've worked too hard. You've told me what a mess you made last time, when that cop, Kridel, was croaked. Where will we be if anything like that's pulled again?"
"Easy, Nora," Slim said. "Maybe we wouldn't be any worse off than we were then. Has anybody burned in the chair for that? Does anybody know who croaked Kridel? Well—the man who did it. Don't lose your nerve. The cops would have a fine time getting a witness in a murder case out of this crowd. And, if what you say is so, maybe the same thing will happen to-night, only in a more convenient spot."
"What are you going to do, Slim?" she asked. "Tie him up, but no more murder. I quit at that."
"Leave it to me," he muttered. "Show me the bull."
Garth received the words as a condemned man probably hears the voice of a judge who wears the black cap.