"Get that
opened. Hurry up! And see that you don't leave any scratches on it,
or--you understand!" He leaned forward, leering with sudden savagery at
his companion.
Hoppy Meggs moved forward, dropped on his knees in front of the trunk,
examined the lock for an instant--and grunted in contempt.
"Aw, it's a cinch! Say, I could do it wid a hairpin!" he grinned--and a
moment later threw back the lid.
Hunchback Joe drew a short, ugly blackjack, a packet of papers, and
a large roll of bills from his pocket, and tossed the articles into
the trunk.
"Lock it again!" he instructed tersely.
Hoppy Meggs hesitated--he was staring into the trunk.
"Say, youse don't mean dat--do youse?" he demanded heavily. "Not dem
papers dat--"
Hunchback Joe's smile was not pleasant.
"Lock the trunk!" he said curtly. And then, as Hoppy Meggs closed down
the lid: "I didn't bring you here to offer any advice; but as I don't
want you to labour under the impression that, not having any brains of
your own, there aren't, therefore, any brains at all to stand between
you and the police, I'll tell you. If they recover the original
document, besides fixing the crime on Klanner, they'll figure they've
got it back before any harm has been done, and before it has been passed
on to whoever had paid down the little cash advance to Klanner for the
job in the shape of that roll there--eh? And figuring that way they
won't change any of the plans or details as they stand now in those
papers--eh? And meanwhile a _copy_ is just as good to the man who is
coughing up to you and me and the rest of us for this, isn't it?"
"My Gawd!" said Hoppy Meggs in fervent admiration, as he locked
the trunk.
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