"There's no other way out," he declared, wearily. "I'm going
through with it." He straightened a little, and again looked at
the stenographer. His voice came quietly, without any
tremulousnesss.
"My name is Joe Garson."
"Alias?" Burke suggested.
"Alias nothing!" came the sharp retort. "Garson's my monaker. I
shot English Eddie, because he was a skunk, and a stool-pigeon,
and he got just what was coming to him." Vituperation beyond the
mere words beat in his voice now.
Burke twisted uneasily in his chair.
"Now, now!" he objected, severely. "We can't take a confession
like that."
Garson shook his head--spoke with fiercer hatred. "because he was
a skunk, and a stool-pigeon," he repeated. "Have you got it?"
And then, as the stenographer nodded assent, he went on, less
violently: "I croaked him just as he was going to call the bulls
with a police-whistle. I used a gun with smokeless powder. It
had a Maxim silencer on it, so that it didn't make any noise."
Garson paused, and the set despair of his features lightened a
little.
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