Jimmie Dale's fingers stole into the side pocket of his coat to play
again in a curiously caressing way with the little torn fragments of her
note--and touched again the piece of paper that the Pippin had dropped.
He took it out mechanically, and read it over once more. One sentence
seemed suddenly to have become particularly ominous--"if he squeals go
the limit." He knew nothing as to the authorship of those words, but
from what he knew of the Pippin there was a certain ugliness to the word
"limit" that he did not like. The "limit" with the Pippin might
mean--_anything_.
He thrust the paper back into his pocket, and sat for a moment staring
musingly at his whisky glass. Well, why not? Before half past ten, the
message said; and it was scarcely ten o'clock yet. In view of the
Tocsin's note, be had intended returning to the Sanctuary, resuming his
own proper character, and, either at the St. James Club, or at his home,
wait for further word from her. There was, indeed, nothing else that he
could do--and Melinoff's, for that matter, was on the way from Bristol
Bob's to the Sanctuary. Yes, why not? If the Pippin was up to any dirty
work, or even if the two of them, Melinoff and the Pippin, were in it
together, and the word "squeal" implied that Melinoff was to be held
strictly up to his full share of some mutual villainy should he show any
inclination to waver, it might not be an altogether unfitting exit from
the stage if the Gray Seal should make his final bow to the underworld
by playing a role in the Pippin's little drama, whatever that drama
might prove to be!
Yes, why not! He passed Melinoff's place in any event, and there was no
reason why he should remain any longer here in Bristol Bob's.
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