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The Yellow Crayon by E. Phillips (Edward Phillips) Oppenheim
page 34 of 368 (09%)

"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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