"Any trace of the bonds? ... What? ... Yes, yes; go on, I'm
listening! ... _Who_? ... _What_?... Good Lord!" The receiver
clicked back on its hook.
"What is it? What do they say?" demanded Kenleigh feverishly.
"Mr. Kenleigh," said Meighan soberly, "there's been a little feud on in
the underworld for the last few months. It came to a showdown to-night,
and the man that won played in luck--he's killed two birds with one
stone, I guess. It looks damned black for your bonds, I'm afraid."
"They're--they're gone?" faltered Kenleigh.
"Yes--and for keeps, I guess," said Meighan gruffly. He laughed shortly,
mirthlessly. "You can turn the light on now; we'd wait a long time
here--for the Gray Seal!"
CHAPTER VIII
AT HALFPAST ONE
Larry the Bat closed the outer door noiselessly behind him, slipped
through the vestibule--and, an instant later, was slouching along Fifth
Avenue, heading back toward Washington Square. His hands in his ragged
pockets clenched. It had been well worked out--with a devil's ingenuity.
The police had swallowed the bait, jumped to the inevitable conclusion
desired, and credited the Gray Seal with the double crime of theft and
murder without an instant's hesitation.
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