"N-no," admitted the reporter. "I can't say he has."
Craig frowned a bit. "I thought not," he remarked. "These people
aren't giving away any hints, if they can help it."
"It's my idea," ventured another of the men, "that when this case
breaks, it will break all of a sudden. I shouldn't wonder if we
are in for one of the sensations of the year, when it comes."
Kennedy looked at him inquiringly. "Why?" he asked simply.
"No particular reason," confessed the man. "Only the regular
detectives act so chesty. They haven't got a thing, and they know
it, only they won't admit it to us. O'Connor was here."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing. He went through all the motions--'Now, pens lifted,
boys,' and all that--talked a lot--and after it was all over he
might have been sure no one would publish a line of his
confidences. There wasn't a stick of copy in the whole thing."
Kennedy laughed. "O'Connor's all right," he replied. "We may need
him sorely before we get through. After all, nothing can take the
place of the organization the police have built up. You say de
Moche is in there yet?"
"Yes. He seemed very anxious to see her. We never get a word out
of him. I've been thinking what would happen if we tried to get
him mad.
Pages:
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104