Guth shifted his weight from one leg to the other. As much as that scar would permit, he smiled, the right corner of his mouth shooting upward and the left turning down. "Well," he said, "you know how it is. I warned him he’d got to keep in the quiet ever since that night him and the Kid shot-up Crab Rotello for tryin’ to steal Reddy’s girl." "Rotello’s still in Bellevue, ain’t he?" "Won’t be out for near a month yet." "He hasn’t squealed?" "Naw. You know these here guys: wouldn’t tell if they was dyin’—rather leave it to their own gang to square things. Crab’ll wait till he gets well, an’ then he’ll fix Reddy’s feet for himself." "Still, you told Reddy what I said you should?" "Tol’ him we was on." "Find him to-night." "All right, Lieutenant." "Tell him Rotello’s squealed: he’ll believe it because he hates him. Tell him the Dago’s goin’ to croak an’s give me an ante-mortem statement—see?" The patrolman stolidly bowed assent. "Tell him the only way for him to square me’s to do me a good turn," continued Donovan. Guth nodded again. "Same’s we worked on the Crab himself ten or twelve weeks ago," he said. "I got you." "That’s it. Remember, I don’t know much, an’ you know a lot less, an’ this guy’s got to know less than you do. He’s got to pull it off inside of two weeks. Now, sit down here, an’ I’ll tell you what he’s got to do. There maybe’ll be more later, but this is the start." §4. The last talk that Judge Stein had that day was one with a brisk, bald-headed man, whose close-cropped mustache only accentuated the heavy mouth below it. This man called in person at the offices of Stein, Falconridge, Falconridge & Perry; he seemed to have come in a hurry, and he handed Miss Weston a card bearing the legend: +−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−+ | B. FRANK OSSERMAN | | *PRESIDENT* | | EAST COUNTY NATIONAL BANK | +−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−+ With him the Judge began by being as deliberate as he had been with Luke Huber. He mentioned the names of the three men upon whom Huber had that morning paid so unusual a visit to Wall Street; but this time Stein frankly declared that these three men empowered him to speak. At the mention of their names, Osserman’s fingers played with a thin gold watch-chain that ran taut through a buttonhole of his waistcoat, from one pocket to another. "I dare say that you will remember," pursued the Judge, "that I have acted with you for these gentlemen on one or two previous occasions." Osserman cleared his throat. "I hope there is no trouble," he said. "No. Oh, no; there need be no trouble," said the Judge. Then he sat and watched Osserman move uneasily in his chair. The bank-president by saying nothing tried to force Stein to explain; Stein, by the same means, tried to force Osserman to make a confession of weakness. At last Stein won. "Of course," said Osserman, "I know the favors they’ve done us."