"All right," agreed Darrow. "Have it your own way--only obey orders." He entered the door of the bar and advanced on the lunch counter. CHAPTER XI THIRTY SECONDS MORE At nine o'clock the following morning five men grouped in McCarthy's office, talking earnestly. Darrow and Jack Warford had been the first to arrive. McCarthy did not seem surprised to see them; nor did he greet them with belligerence. "Well?" he demanded. "Well?" repeated Darrow, sinking gracefully to one corner of the table. "You're an old fool, McCarthy. What good did you think it would do you to arrest me?" "I intended to sweat you," confessed the boss frankly, "but I was too busy." "Sweat me, eh?" demanded Darrow, with some amusement. "So you decided not to, did you--hence the lack of enthusiasm on the part of the police in effecting my recapture. You didn't imagine I caused all this, did you?" "I don't know," growled McCarthy. "But if you, or the other fellow, or whoever or whatever it is, think you can bluff me out, you or he or it's left! That's all!" "So you've been getting more wireless, have you?" surmised Darrow. McCarthy cast a surly glance toward Jack, whom previously he had ignored. "Yes," he admitted grudgingly. Darrow held out his hand. After a moment's hesitation McCarthy thrust forward a single yellow paper, and Darrow read aloud in spite of the boss' warning gesture: "McCarthy: The sign has been sent you and sent your people. You are stubborn, but it shall not avail you. You must go; and within twenty-four hours. It will not avail you unless you go. The _Celtic_ leaves to-morrow at noon. You must go on that ship. I shall know whether or not you obey me. Once more I shall warn you; one more sign shall I send. Then I shall strike!" "He's getting garrulous," remarked Darrow reflectively; "but he's relieved my mind. You'd better go." "Go!" cried McCarthy, half starting to his feet. "Not on your life!" Darrow surveyed him calmly. "You're getting rattled," said he, "and it doesn't pay you particularly to try to bluff me. A jack-rabbit of average firmness could stampede you in your present state of mind." "You think so?" sneered McCarthy. "I know so. And you're quite right. If you attempt the game too long, he'll destroy you." "How?" demanded McCarthy. "Take my word for it, _he can do it!_" replied Darrow. McCarthy ruminated, drumming his thick fingers on the desk. "Find him," said he, at last. "I intend to," replied Darrow. "That'll be all right about your friend's job," conceded McCarthy, with a nod toward Jack. "I fancy you won't have anything to do with it," returned Darrow pleasantly. At this moment the door opened and Hallowell entered. He nodded to Darrow, and greeted McCarthy. "Nothing for you," growled the latter. Darrow glanced at his watch. "He will have in about five minutes," said he to the reporter.