thinking, his conscience still did not trouble him on the score of his
offenses. He believed, and was largely right in this belief, that the
suckers he had trimmed had all been out to secure unlawful gain and to
take cunning advantage of his supposedly foolish self and of other
dupes. He had been too clever for them, that was all; in desire and
intent they had been as great cheats as himself. So he felt no remorse
over his victims; and as for anything he may have done against that
impersonal entity, the criminal statutes, why, the period in prison
had squared all such matters. So he now faced life pleasantly and with
care-free soul.

Larry had turned away from the dark river and had started to retrace
his way, when he saw a man approaching through the darkness. Larry
paused. The man drew near and halted exactly in front of Larry. By the
swing of his body Larry had recognized the man, and his own figure
instinctively grew tense.

"What you doin' out here, Brainard?" The voice was peremptory and
rough.

"Throwing kisses over at Brooklyn," Larry replied coolly. "And what
are you doing out here, Gavegan?"

"Following you. I wanted a quiet word with you. I've been right behind
you ever since you hit New York."

"I knew you would be. You and Casey. But you haven't got anything on
me."

"I got plenty on you before!--with Casey helping," retorted Gavegan.