"Oh, Jimmy has fine friends," he said almost complacently, "he's
always gone with the best. He's very particular."
Lindsay's forehead was a network of pain and doubt.
"But Jimmy has plenty of money," he insisted, "he always had
the--his things--oh, it's idiotic! You're crazy, that's all."
"Oh, yes, he always had plenty," the man said simply.
In the pause that followed they heard the soft chink of silver
through the wall; Caroline was evidently busy.
Lindsay twisted his face into an ugly smile.
"And I thought he was the squarest of the lot," he said slowly,
"I've said so often. We all did. Pretty easy, weren't we?"
"He is!" The man half rose, but fell back with a grunt of pain.
"Oh, _damn_ this heart!" he complained fretfully. "I don't know
what's the matter with me. That fortune woman, she knew. Last week
it was I went. 'You're making a plan to end up your business,' she
says to me, 'and so you will, mister, but not the way you think.
There's some trouble coming to you and a child's mixed up in it.
Look out for strange dogs,' she says, they all tell me that--'and
run no risks this month. I don't just like the looks of your hand,'
she says. And when I saw that child, it was all up with me, I
thought.
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