“We been planning to make it Wednesday and surprise them. Well, we’re going to do it to-night instead!”
A chorus of approval greeted this piece of news.
“And more than that: Marzonij is going to go to the island now, make a deal to sign up with Cowboy, if he can, and tip Cowboy off to Gallagher’s real name and job! Marzonij is going to be on the spot when we get there and maybe—” he paused for effect, “Maybe——”
“—Maybe I’ll get a shot at Cowboy, eh?” queried Marzonij eagerly.
Hegarty grinned.
“Marzonij,” said he, “you should oughta go to the head of the class!”
The little man was shortly headed for Porpoise Island, guiding a varnished tender while a powerful outboard motor roared as he crossed the bay. He patted the area under his left armpit reassuringly now and then grinned. He was not only heading for a job he would enjoy, but he’d soon be assistant to Hegarty as head of Cowboy’s swell syndicate.
He circled the sea side of Porpoise Island, located the cove and went in fast, roaring up to the landing-stage as if some one were apt to appear in pursuit at any moment.
“Where’s Nevada?” he demanded as one of Mr. Nevens’ henchmen came forward on the wharf to investigate.
“In conference, fellow!” said the mobster testily. “What-a you want?”