... Yes, I thought you might know the place. Perhaps, too, you know
of a man who is commonly called the Pippin? ... No? Well, no matter. The
police do! You'll find the evidence under Melinoff's body.... I beg your
pardon? ... Yes--murder.... What? ... It is a cuff link, the Pippin's
cuff link, that was dropped in the struggle.... What? ... No, I do not
know why; I have told you all I know. There is nothing more, Mr.
Carruthers--except that I should advise you to work as quickly as
possible, as otherwise some one may stumble on the crime before you do.
Good-night, Mr. Carruthers."
Carruthers was still talking, wildly, excitedly. Jimmie Dale calmly hung
up the receiver, left the telephone booth, and went out to the street
again--by the side entrance. If Carruthers made inquiry of central as to
where the call had come from, the reply that it was from the Crescent
saloon would in no way serve Carruthers, or any one else. No one, even
in the Crescent saloon, would be able to furnish any information as to
who had telephoned. It was, therefore, in a word, up to Carruthers now;
the Pippin would be brought to account; and as far as he, Jimmie Dale,
was concerned, his connection with the affair was at an end.
Pages:
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370