"You were clever, Slimmy!" he murmured. "Smarlinghue wouldn't have had
a chance of getting out from under this break--if your plans had
worked out! And I didn't know you, of course, because you were a
Chicago crook."
He took off the dead man's mask, and played his flashlight for a moment
over the cold, set features.
A queer smile twisted Jimmie Dale's lips.
It was "Clancy of Headquarters"!
CHAPTER IV
THE DIAMOND PENDANT
The "murder" of Slimmy Jack had evidently been discovered too late for
the make-up of the early morning papers; but from the noon editions
onward it had been flung across the front pages in glaring type--even
the most stately journals, for the nonce aroused out of their dignified
calm, indulging in "display" headlines that, quite apart from the mere
text, could not but have startled their equally stately and dignified
readers. The Gray Seal, the leech that fed upon society, the murderer,
the thief, the menace to the lives and property of law-abiding citizens,
the scourge that for years New York had combated in the no more
effective fashion than that of gnashing its teeth in impotent fury, had
suddenly reappeared with a fresh murder to his credit.
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