“Aint he a dandy!” exclaimed Big Kennedy, surveying young Morton in a rapt way. Then coming back to me: “I've got some news for you that you want to keep under your waistcoat. You know Billy Cassidy--Foxy Billy--him that studied to be a priest? You remember how I got him a post in th' Comptroller's office. Well, I sent for him not an hour ago; he's goin' to take copies of th' accounts that show what th' Chief an' them other highbinders at the top o' Tammany have been doin'. I'll have the papers on 'em in less'n a week. If we get our hooks on what I'm after, an' Foxy Billy says we shall, we'll wipe that gang off th' earth.” “Given those documents, we shall, as you say, obliterate them,” chimed in young Morton. “But speaking of your agent: Is this Foxy Billy as astute as his name would imply?” “He could go down to Coney Island an' beat th' shells,” said Big Kennedy confidently. “About the knife which gave James the Horseshoer his death wound,” said young Morton. His tones were vapid, but his glance was bright enough. “They've sent it to the Central Office. The detectives are sure to discover the pawnbroker who sold it. I think it would be wise, therefore, to carry the detectives the word ourselves. It will draw the sting out of that wasp; it would, really. It wouldn't look well to a jury, should we let them track down-this information, while it will destroy its effect if we ourselves tell them. I think with the start he has, we can trust that Sicilian individual to take care of himself.” This suggestion appealed to Big Kennedy as good. He thought, too, that he and young Morton might better set about the matter without delay. “Don't lose your nerve,” said he, shaking me by the hand. “You are as safe as though you were in church. I'll crowd 'em, too, an' get this trial over inside of six weeks. By that time, if Foxy Billy is any good, we'll be ready to give the Chief some law business of his own.” “One thing,” I said at parting; “my wife must not come here. I wouldn't have her see me in a cell to save my life.” From the moment of my arrival at the Tombs, I had not ceased to think of Apple Cheek and her distress. Anne would do her best to comfort her; and for the rest--why! it must be borne. But I could not abide her seeing me a prisoner; not for her sake, but for my own. “Well, good-by!” said young Morton, as he and Big Kennedy were taking themselves away. “You need give yourself no uneasiness. Remember, you are not only right, but rich; and when, pray, was the right, on being backed by riches, ever beaten down?” “Or for that matter, the wrong either?” put in Big Kennedy sagely. “I've never seen money lose a fight.” “Our friend,” said young Morton, addressing the warden, who had now returned, and speaking in a high superior vein, “is to have everything he wants. Here is my card. Remember, now, this gentleman is my friend; and it is not to my fancy, don't y' know, that a friend of mine should lack for anything; it isn't, really!”