Part 24 (1/2)

LAID UP.

Harriet Holden was sitting in Elizabeth's boudoir. ”And he had the effrontery,” the latter was saying, ”to tell me what I must do and must not do! The idea! A miserable little milk-wagon driver dictating to me!”

Miss Holden smiled.

”I should not call him very little,” she remarked.

”I didn't mean physically,” retorted Elizabeth. ”It is absolutely insufferable. I am going to demand that father discharge the man.”

”And suppose he asks you why?” asked Harriet. ”You will tell him, of course, that you want this person discharged because he protected you from the insults and attacks of a ruffian while you were dining in Feinheimer's at night--is that it?”

”You are utterly impossible, Harriet!” cried Elizabeth, stamping her foot. ”You are as bad as that efficiency person. But, then, I might have expected it! You have always, it seems to me, shown a great deal more interest in the fellow than necessary, and probably the fact that Harold doesn't like him is enough to make you partial toward him, for you have never tried to hide the fact that you don't like Harold.”

”If you're going to be cross,” said Harriet, ”I think I shall go home.”

At about the same time the Lizard entered Feinheimer's. In the far corner of the room Murray was seated at a table. The Lizard approached and sat down opposite him. ”Here I am,” he said. ”What do you want, and how did you know I was in town?”

”I didn't know,” said Murray. ”I got a swell job for you, and so I sent out word to get you.”

”You're in luck then,” said the Lizard. ”I just blew in this morning.

What kind of a job you got?”

Murray explained at length.

”They got a watchman,” he concluded, ”but I've got a guy on de inside that'll fix him.”

”When do I pull this off?” asked the Lizard.

”In about a week. I'll let you know the night later. Dey ordinarily draw the payroll money Monday, the same day dey pay, but dis week they'll draw it Sat.u.r.day and leave it in the safe. It'll be layin' on top of a bunch of books and papers. Dey're de t'ings you're to destroy.

As I told you, it will all be fixed from de inside. Dere's no danger of a pinch. All you gotta do is crack de safe, put about a four or five t'ousand dollar roll in your pocket, and as you cross de river drop a handful of books and papers in. Nothin' to it--it's the easiest graft you ever had.”

”You're sure dat's all?” asked the Lizard.

”Sure thing!” replied Murray.

”Where's de place?”

”Dat I can't tell you until the day we're ready to pull off de job.”

At four o'clock that afternoon Jimmy Torrance collapsed at his desk.

The flu had struck him as suddenly and as unexpectedly as it had attacked many of its victims. Edith Hudson found him, and immediately notified Mr. Compton, with the result that half an hour later Jimmy Torrance was in a small private hospital in Park Avenue.

That night Bince got Murray over the phone. He told him of Jimmy's sickness.

”He's balled up the whole plan,” he complained. ”We've either got to wait until he croaks or is out again before we can go ahead, unless something else arises to make it necessary to act before. I think I can hold things off, though, at this end, all right.”

For four or five days Jimmy was a pretty sick man. He was allowed to see no one, but even if Jimmy had been in condition to give the matter any thought he would not have expected to see any one, for who was there to visit him in the hospital, who was there who knew of his illness, to care whether he was sick or well, alive or dead? It was on the fifth day that Jimmy commenced to take notice of anything. At Compton's orders he had been placed in a private room and given a special nurse, and to-day for the first time he learned of Mr. Compton's kindness and the fact that the nurse was instructed to call Jimmy's employer twice a day and report the patient's condition.