What is the end of this to be? If the
police cannot cope with this blood-mad ruffian, is New York to sit idly
by and submit to another reign of terror instituted and carried on under
the nose of authority by this inhuman jackal? If so, we are committing a
crime against ourselves, we are insulting our intelligence, and--"
The man who had written that was a personal friend! Jimmie Dale threw
the paper down, and picked up another, and after that another. They
were pretty well all alike. They rehearsed the discovery of Larry the
Bat as the Gray Seal; they rehearsed the story of the fire in the
tenement of six months ago in which it was supposed that Larry the Bat
had perished--they differed only in the virulence, a mere choice of
words, with which they now demanded that this Larry the Bat, alias the
Gray Seal, should be dug out like a rat from his hole, and the city be
freed once and for all, and with no loophole for misadventure this
time, of this "ogre of hell," as one paper put it, that was gorging
itself upon New York.
The furrows gathered on Jimmie Dale's forehead, as he folded up the
papers, and stared at his chauffeur's back through the plate-glass front
of the car.
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