“Well, de first one is dat Nick Carter is in de case and Patsy Murphy wid him.” “I got dat line meself,” said Spike. “I knows Patsy, dis long time. I seed him dis mornin’ an’ I tumbled to de job.” “Well, here’s a line you ain’t got. De lags took out of de house a case wid some papers in it wot’s worth more’n fifty times what all de odder things is.” “Wot’s dat you’re givin’ me?” asked Spike, roughly. “Wot are yer gittin’ to?” “It’s dis. Some big feller in de dark put up de job of gittin’ de lags to git hold of dat case. Dey put up for it, but nothin’ like wot it’s wurth. Why, man, dere’s thousands and thousands in dat case and dere’s more’n one dat would put up big for it.” Spike pricked up his ears, for he began to see what was meant and of what use the knowledge of it would be to him in his contest with Lannigan. “Oh, gwan!” he cried. “You’re dopey. Youse dreamin’.” “Naw, I ain’t dreamin’,” exclaimed the other. “His nibs dat lives in de crib dat was cracked would give enough to make us all rich, to git dat case back wid wot’s in it.” “Say,” asked Spike, “where did you get dat line?” “De same where you got your line,” said Morris. “Patsy Murphy?” “De same.” “How did he come to do dat?” “Dat’s wot he’s lookin’ for,” said Morris. “Yer see, he’s lookin’ for dat and nottin’ else. You know Patsy is an east sider, an’ he tackled me to know if I knew who did de job, den he’d give all his insides to me about it.” “Yes, he did!” said Spike, incredulously. “Dat’s right. He did. An’ he said dat he was talkin’ wid you afore he seen me and if he hadn’t been a chump, he’d split to you to see if you wouldn’t give him a pointer on de fellers into de job.” “Dat’s right,” said Spike, thoughtfully. “An’ I give him de chance when I was pumpin’ him as to whether he knew who did de job.” “Well, what of it?” “Well,” said Morris, “I was t’inkin’ dere was somethin’ into it for you and me if you handled it right. I was t’inkin’ if you was dead onto de right lags, dat youse could go to ’em an’ give ’em a tip about the wuth dere was into de case and get ’em to hold it up; den youse who wasn’t into de job could dicker between dem as wants it bad and Patsy’d be one to dicker wid.” Spike slapped the table with his hands so hard that every one in the room turned to look, but Spike was too earnest to notice this. To Morris he said: “Yer right, kid, yer dead right. Yer’ve got a big line. Now, see here, I know who did de job. I’m dead certain of that, dough dey won’t say dey did. But wid what you give me I’ll make ’em talk on de level. Now, kid, youse must git out of here, for dem as I t’inks did it will be here soon. I’m on de dead level wid youse and you got yer rake in whatever I pulls off.” “All right,” said Morris. He got up from the table, pulled his hat over his brows, and then swaggered out of the barroom.