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Reeve, Arthur B. (Arthur Benjamin), 1880-1936

"Gold of the Gods"


Whitney eyed us a moment.
"Say," he ejaculated, "it was Norton brought you into this case,
wasn't it?"
"I cannot deny that," returned Kennedy quietly, meeting his eyes.
"But it is Inez Mendoza now that keeps me in it."
"So--you're another rival, are you?" purred Whitney sarcastically.
"Lockwood and de Moche aren't enough. I have a sneaking suspicion
that Norton himself is one of them. Now it's you, too. I suppose
Mr. Jameson is another. Well, if I was ten years younger, I'd cut
you all out, or know the reason why. Oh, YES, I think I will NOT
tell you what Mr. Lockwood suspects."
With every sentence the veins of Whitney's forehead stood out
further, until now they were like whipcords. His eyes and face
were fairly apoplectic. Slowly the conviction was forced on me.
The man acted for all the world like one affected by a drug.
"Well," he went on, "you may tell Norton for me that I am going to
have him watched. That will throw a scare into him."
At least it showed that the breach between Whitney and Norton was
deep. Kennedy listened without saying much, but I knew that he was
gratified. He was playing Lockwood against de Moche, the Senora
against Inez. Now if Whitney would play himself against Norton,
out of the tangle might emerge just the clues he needed.


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