If we cop the kale, that's all we're
after. Is that right, Del?"
The girl seemed to come forward, and face them defiantly.
"Sure it's right. I never was for the strong arm stuff, Hogan. This is my
graft, anyhow, and not one of you stiffs gets a penny of it unless I
split with you. This fellow isn't going to be slugged--that's flat. It is
only because he's fell in love with the Coolidge girl that he is here,
and once we've skipped out, I don't wish the guy any bad luck."
"You ought to have caught him yourself, Del," some one said. "The bird
never would have known the difference."
She laughed, quickly restored to good humour.
"You're about right there, Dave," she answered. "That was another
mistake; the only chance I ever had of marrying in high social circles.
But hell, I'll be a lady tomorrow, so let's let the poor devil go. Wrap
him up, and lay him away out in the garage. The walls are two foot solid
stone; he'll stay buried there all right."
Hogan growled in derision, yet it was evident that she and Hobart would
have their way. Some one brought a rope, which was deftly wound about
him, West continuing to feign unconsciousness. He secretly hoped this
condition might result in some carelessness on their part, in either
speech or action. Anyway it would undoubtedly save him from further
brutal treatment. He had no reason to suspect that his ruse was
questioned. The fellows spoke freely while making him secure, but he
gained very little information from their conversation--not a hint as to
where Natalie was confined, or how long it was proposed to hold them
prisoners.
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