dozen Soapys."

"So?" said Heine, chewing on his cigar and peering into the safe. "Say,
what's all them tied up in sassy blue ribbon, Bud?"

"These?" said M'Ginnis, and he took out a bundle of letters, turning
them over in his big hands.

"Skirt--hey, Bud?"

"Sure thing!" he nodded, and as he stared down at this packet, how
should he know how tense and rigid had become the lounging form in the
darkness beyond the window, or guess of the wide glare of watchful eyes
or of the sudden quiver of a smouldering cigarette?

"Yes, a girl's letters, Heine! An' a hell of a lot of 'em. I dunno why I
keep 'em, but--oh, hell!" So saying he tossed the letters back again and
turned to his companion. "Hand over that dope!" he commanded, and Heine
passed over a bundle of papers which M'Ginnis carefully slipped into a
certain compartment. As he did so, Heine spun around upon his heel.

"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed, "you shook me that time, Soapy! Where've you
blown in from--"

"An' what th' hell are you nosin' around here for, anyway?" snarled
M'Ginnis, shutting the heavy safe with a fierce slam; "since you've
come in you can get out again--right now!"

Soapy seated himself upon a corner of the desk and placidly breathed out
two spirals of cigarette smoke.

"Heard about Hermy bein' married, Bud?" he enquired.

"Married? You're a liar! Hermy married? It's not so!"

"'S right!" nodded Soapy. "She's married th' millionaire guy as got
shot--you know--got shot in that wood--you'll remember, Bud!"

M'Ginnis sank into a chair and fell to biting his nails, staring blindly
before him.

"Is--this--straight goods?" he enquired thickly, without altering his
gaze.

"Sure! Y' see, she nursed him through his sickness, Bud--kind of did the
piller-smoothin' an' brow-strokin' act. Oh, I guess she comforted him
quite some."

M'Ginnis stared before him, worrying his nails with sharp white teeth.

"Ravenslee's a well man again, I hear, an' they're honeymoonin' at his
place on the Hudson--devotion ain't the word, Bud! 'S funny," said
Soapy, "but th' bullet as downed this guy drove Hermy into his arms.
'S funny, ain't it, Bud?"

With a hoarse, inarticulate cry that was scarcely human, M'Ginnis sprang
from his chair, his quivering fists up-flung. For a moment he stood
thus, striving vainly for utterance, then wrenched loose his
neckerchief, while Soapy methodically lighted a new cigarette from the
butt of its predecessor.

"Easy, Bud, easy!"