Tom Braddock is an honest man these days. He's not a whiskey-
soaked bum any longer. He cracked me over the head this morning--you
can see the plaster there--but I don't hold it up against him. He
considers me his friend because I swore I'd stand by him if he'd hold
back on getting you right away. He trusts me and he thinks you're all
right, too, Ernie. Now, once and for all, I'm not in on this dirty
work. _And neither is Ernie!"_
Colonel Grand sat motionless before the angry young man, quietly
tapping on the table with his long, white fingers, a faint smile on
his half-crescent mouth.
"We'll see," he said deliberately. "Perhaps you'd better let Ernie do
the talking. I don't believe you are as wise and discreet as you might
be, Dick."
Dick whirled upon Ernie, who stood behind him. The hunchback was
staring at him with a strange, unfamiliar expression in his face. It
was a look of combined wonder and awe.
"Come on, Ernie. Let's get out of here."
"Just a moment, Ernie," interposed the Colonel. "Sit down and listen
to what I have to say."
But, for the first time since it entered his body, Ernie's soul arose
above the sordid flesh.
Pages:
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544