The Yellow Crayon by E. Phillips (Edward Phillips) Oppenheim
page 34 of 368 (09%)
page 34 of 368 (09%)
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"Oh, curse your sarcasm," Mr. Horser said. "I'm talking facts, and you've got to know them. Will you give up that report? You can find out all there is in it for yourself. But I'm going to give it you straight. If I don't have that report back unread, you'll never leave New York." Mr. Sabin was genuinely amused. "My good fellow," he said, "you have made yourself a notorious person in this country by dint of incessant bullying and bribing and corruption of every sort. You may possess all the powers you claim. Your only mistake seems to be that you are too thick-headed to know when you are overmatched. I have been a diplomatist all my life," Mr. Sabin said, rising slowly to his feet, and with a sudden intent look upon his face, "and if I were to be outwitted by such a novice as you I should deserve to end my days--in New York." Mr. Horser rose also to his feet. A smile of triumph was on his lips. "Well," he said, "we-- Come in! Come in!" The door was thrown open. Skinner and two policemen entered. Mr. Sabin leaned towards the wall, and in a second the room was plunged in darkness. "Turn on the lights!" Skinner shouted. "Seize him! He's in that corner. Use your clubs!" Horser bawled. "Stand by the door one of you. Damnation, where is that switch?" He found it with a shout of triumph. Lights flared out in the room. |
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