The Voice in the Fog by Harold MacGrath
page 70 of 162 (43%)
page 70 of 162 (43%)
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Haggerty accepted a cigar, lighted it, and amusedly watched the eager handsome face of the artist. "Any poker lately?" "No; cut it out for six months. Come on, now; don't keep me waiting any longer." "Mum's th' word?"--tantalizingly. "You ought to know that by this time"--aggrieved. Haggerty tossed the bunch of keys on the table. "Ha! Good specimens, these," Forbes declared, handling them. "Here's a window-opener." "Good boy!" said Haggerty, as a teacher would have commended a bright pupil. "And a door-chain lifter. Nothing lacking. Did he hit you with these?" "Ye-up." "What are these regular keys for?" "One o' them unlocks a door." Haggerty smoked luxuriously. Forbes eyed the ordinary keys with more interest than the burglarious |
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