He was getting tired of
McGivney's scoldings; if McGivney didn't like his work, let McGivney
go and be a Red for a while himself. Peter walked the streets all
day and a part of the night, thinking about Nell, and thrilling over
the half promises she had made him.
They met next day in the park. No one was following them, and they
found a solitary place, and Nell let him kiss her several times, and
in between the kisses she unfolded to him a terrifying plan. Peter
had thought that he was something of an intriguer, but his
self-esteem shriveled to nothingness in the presence of the superb
conception which had come to ripeness in the space of twenty-four
hours in the brain of Nell Doolin, alias Edythe Eustace.
Peter had been doing the hard work, and these big fellows had been
using him, handing him a tip now and then, and making fortunes out
of the information he brought them. McGivney had let the cat out of
the bag in this case of Lackman; you might be sure they had been
making money, big money, out of all the other cases. What Peter must
do was to work up something of his own, and get the real money, and
make himself one of the big fellows. Peter had the facts, he knew
the people; he had watched in the Goober case exactly how a
"frame-up" was made, and now he must make one for himself, and one
that would pay.
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