"That's all he sees. Money? My God! He's mad. Why he doesn't talk figures that I understand. It's nothing but blackmail, Bob, and you mustn't stand for it. He's a queer man--he helped me when I was broke; now he'd hitch me to a bull and ticket me up the river, to get that money. Why, he'd strap the coppers on my feet and turn on the juice with his own hand rather than lose this chance." As her flow of speech died down to apologetic murmurs Bob said gravely: "I never thought Merkle and I could cover a thing like Hammon's death, but, after all, they can't do much to us." "It's mighty kind of you to say so. I'll stand whatever comes to me; I was thinking more of Lorelei--she's in no condition--" Bob uttered an exclamation. "You're right! We've got to gain time. After the baby's born it won't matter so much." "Max is no fool; he won't wait. Besides, Goldberg's been to see Inspector Snell already on my account, and Snell is in the know. He's holding back warrants now for all of us. I couldn't leave town if I wanted to." The numbing force of the calamity coming at this of all times fairly stupefied Bob, rendering him incapable of clear analysis or even of the suspicions his ordinary intelligence would have prompted. "Why doesn't Snell get busy?" he inquired, blankly, at which Lilas lost her patience. "Don't you see he's in on the graft? Snell doesn't want to pinch us. He doesn't care how Jarvis died, any more than Max or Goldberg cares. They want money, MONEY--coin! That's how things are run in this town, that's how the police are squared. If you don't come across they'll try to show that it was murder instead of self-defense. Remember it was my gun that killed--that did the work--and it was found in Hammon's library." Before Bob's arrival Lilas had prepared herself for this scene by a liberal dose of cocaine, but the strain of her acting had exhausted her strength; her brain was tiring. Accordingly she excused herself, and, once in her bathroom, prepared a fresh solution of the powder, leaving Bob the while to meditate upon his plight. When she returned her eyes were brighter and she had regained the mastery of her unruly nerves. Bob looked up with a drawn expression that almost moved her to pity. "How much do they want?" he inquired, dully. "Don't be a fool, Bob. You helped me; I won't see you gouged. No matter what you gave they'd frame you over again. We'd better face it." "I CAN'T face it," he cried. "Alone, I would in a minute--no court in the world would hold Merkle and me for what we did--but I can't let 'em hurt my wife and my kid. Why, Lorelei would die of fright." He choked and stammered. "They want money. How much?" "Merkle is the man they're after." "How much?" he insisted. "It would take a hundred thousand to square it." Bob gasped. "This is the worst dream I ever had."