poor Tim said and did
before they knocked him out, but they wouldn't answer. They know what
they're up against if he dies and their lawyer has told them to keep
their mouths shut. I had the satisfaction of telling them, though, that
I'd be on hand to write the story when they are hanged and that I was
looking forward to the assignment. 'Slim' almost broke down when I said
it."

The mayor, two doctors and a nurse were in the room when they entered.
Murphy lay inert on the bed. He had never regained consciousness, the
doctors said, and he was in such a weakened condition that only a
miracle beyond the skill of surgery and medicine could save him. The
mayor looked at them in silence as they approached the bed beside which
he was seated in a chair. They saw that there were tears in his eyes,
tears that he was not ashamed of others seeing.

For a quarter of an hour they stood at the bedside while one of the
doctors frequently felt Murphy's wrist to catch the fluttering pulse.
Then a sound came from the bandaged head and the doctor leaned over,
putting his ear close to the hidden face. They heard the sound again and
realized it was a whisper.

"He's saying something about the Gallant kid," said the doctor looking
up.

John moved to the head of the bed and, leaning over it, said:

"Yes, Murphy; I'm here."

The whisper rose a little becoming audible throughout the room.

"I'm croaking--I guess--ain't I?" it asked.

"You're all right--Tim," John managed to say.

"I didn't squeal--kid--they got me--I didn't tell 'em it was you and
Brennan."

"We know you didn't, Murphy."

"I wanna tell ya something--before I go--see?" The whisper became
fainter. "I wasn't workin' for ya--for da jack--ya gave me--see? I did
it 'cause--my old man--my old man----" The whisper stopped.

"Yes, Tim."

"'Cause--my old man--my--old--man--was--was--'Red Mike,'--see?"

A quick intake of breath by Brennan was the only sound that broke the
tense silence.

"So--I--wasn't--no--dirty--stool--pigeon----" The whisper stopped again.
Murphy drew his last breath and with it he said his last word:

"See?"

* * *

The news of Murphy's death was printed in the late editions. His voice
shaking with suppressed emotion, Brennan dictated the brief announcement
of the passing of the twisted-nose youth by telephone to the office.

"Tim Murphy, who was brutally beaten by 'Gink' Cummings' thugs
yesterday, died at the Clara