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crewdriver. "Now what, lieutenant?" demands Barry. "S-s-s-h!" says I, mysterious. "We got to drill around until midnight." "Why not at the Follies, then?" suggests Barry. "Swell thought!" says I. And for this brand of active service I couldn't have picked a better man than Barry. From our box seats he points out the cute little squab with the big eyes, third from the end, and even gets one of the soloists singin' a patriotic chorus at us. On the strength of which Barry makes two more trips down to the cafe. Not that he gets primed enough so you'd notice it. Nothing like that. Only he grows more enthusiastic over the idea of being useful in the great cause. "Remember, lieutenant," says he as we drifts out with the midnight push, "I'm under orders. Eh?" "Sure thing," says I. "You're about to get 'em, too. Did you ever do such a thing as steal a barber's pole?" Barry couldn't remember that he ever had. "Well," says I, "that's what you're goin' to do now." "Which one?" asks Barry. "Otto's," says I. "From the joint where we were just before dinner." "Right, lieutenant," says Barry, givin' his salute. "And listen," says I. "You're dead set on havin' that particular pole. Understand? You want it bad. And after you get it you ain't goin' to let anybody get it away from you, no matter what happens, until I give the word. That's your cue." "Trust me, lieutenant," says Barry, straightenin' up. "I shall stand by the pole." Sounds simple, don't it? But that's the way all us great minds work, along lines like that. And the foolisher we look at the start the deeper we're apt to be divin' after the plot of the piece. Don't miss that. What's a bent hairpin in the mud to you? While to us--boy, page old Doc Watson. How many times, for instance, do you suppose you've walked past the Hotel Northumberland? Yet did you ever notice that the barber shop entrance was exactly twenty paces east on Umpteenth Street from the corner of Broadway; that you go down three iron steps to a landin' before you turn for the other 15; or that the barber pole has a gilt top with blue stars in it, and is swung out on a single bracket with two screws on each side? I points out all this to Barry as we strolls down from the theater district. "By jove!" says Barry. "Wonderful!" "Ain't it?" says I. "And all done without a change of wig or a jab of the needle. Now your part is easy. You simply drift down the side street, step
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