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McIntyre, John T.

"Ashton-Kirk, Investigator"

"It must be a bad day for
news, and they have plenty of space. At any rate, anyone who is at all
interested in the fact, is now aware that after six o'clock this
evening, 478 Christie Place will be unguarded, except for the regular
patrolman. Of course," with a glance at Pendleton and another in a
mirror at himself, "if a brace of rough-looking characters are hidden
away within, there will only be a few who know it."
He opened a drawer and took out two black shining objects; the short
barrels and blocky shapes told Pendleton that they were automatic
revolvers.
"They will throw ten slugs as thick as your little finger while you're
winking your eye as many times," said Ashton-Kirk.
They each slipped one of the squat, formidable weapons into a hip
pocket; then they made their way out at the rear of the house. With
the collars of their sack coats turned up and their long visored cloth
caps pulled down, they hurried along among the dull-eyed throngs that
bartered and quarreled and sought their own advantage.
And when, in the uncertain dusk, a wagon drew up at 478 and two
sack-coated, cloth-capped men began carrying parcels up the stairs, is
it any wonder that Berg, watching from the window of his delicatessen
store, said to his clerk:
"Dot furrier that rents der rooms by der third floor is putting some
more things in storage over the summer, yet.


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