Mary 'ad nothink to do with it, but
you can't make Brad believe that. He's got it in 'is 'ead that she's
been working with Grand all along. I talked to 'im for two hours
yesterday, but I couldn't shake 'im. He's a broken man--but he's a
determined one. The time served up at Sing Sing 'ad one benefit to it:
it dried up all the whiskey that was in 'im. He came out of there with
'is eyes and 'is mind as clear as whistles, and he's not the feller
you used to know, David. He's twenty years older, and his face ain't
no longer bloated; it's haggard and full o' lines. His hair is nearly
as white as mine. And 'ere's the great thing about 'im: he ain't
drinking a drop. He says he never will drink another drop, so long as
he lives. Do you know why?"
The old man leaned forward and spoke with a serious intentness that
sent a cold chill to the heart of his young friend.
"He says he ain't going to take any chances on bungling the job he's
set out to do," went on Joey slowly. "He wants to be plumb sober when
he does it, so's it will be done proper."
"You mean--murder?"
"That's just it, David. He's going to kill Bob Grand.
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