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“In the wallet. You’ll find it in my inside coat pocket.”

Paul Pry took out the wallet.

Tommy Drake made a swift motion with his thumb, lifting the bandage slightly from his eyes.

Paul Pry snapped home a left hook to the jaw, not a hard hook, but a jarring blow that was a promise of what might follow.

“Naughty, naughty! Mamma spank!” he said.

Tommy Drake’s head snapped back. His right hand abruptly dropped.

“My mistake, guy,” he said.

Paul Pry fished out the checks.

There were some small ones, but there were two large ones, one for twenty thousand, one for ten thousand, made out just as Finney had said they would be, bearing the stamp of certification.

Paul Pry took out his fountain pen, arranged a board, put the board on the lap of Tommy Drake, then stepped behind him.

“All right, Tommy. Listen to this and get it straight. I’m taking off the blindfold long enough for you to sign your name four times. Write on the back of each check, ‘Pay to the order of bearer,’ and then sign your name. The bank will know your signature all right, but I’ll have to keep you here until the checks are cashed, to make certain that there isn’t any hitch.

“But don’t try to turn your head and look around when I take off the blindfold. Because, if you do, there’s going to be a slung-shot tap your bean, and when you wake up you’ll have a hell of a headache.”

Tommy Drake sighed.

“Geez, buddy, let’s get it over with. But you’d better have an airplane all ready for a getaway, because Big Front will remember this.”

“Yeah, I know,” drawled Paul Pry, casually.

He put the tinted oblongs of paper on the board, stepped back of the captive, and slipped up the blindfold.

Tommy Drake sighed, took the fountain pen, and started to write. Midway, he paused, puzzled.

“There are four checks here. But only two of the checks in the wallet had any size to ’em. You aren’t so damned picay-unish you’re going to monkey with the small stuff are you?”

Paul Pry tapped lightly upon the top of the captive’s head.

“Naughty, naughty, mamma Have to spank again!”

“Oh, all right,” said Tommy, and went ahead with the business of signing.

Paul Pry slipped the bandage down over his eyes.

“I’ll give you a break some day if you’ll leave off those damned handcuffs,” said Tommy Drake, “and I’ll promise I won’t try to make a getaway.”

Paul Pry snickered.

“Don’t be silly, Tommy. Stick your wrists out. But I have got a nice dose of sleepy-by medicine that’ll take effect pretty soon. When it does, I’ll come in and take off the handcuffs. You’ll sleep until tomorrow afternoon, but your friends will come for you before then.

“Nighty-by. Here, take this.”

Tommy Drake swallowed obediently.

“That,” he proclaimed, “marks you for a gentleman, even if you are a damned hijacker.”

Paul Pry took the endorsed checks, thrust them into his pocket, turned the light low.

“I’ll take off the handcuffs,” he promised, and went into the outer room.

The seductive hands of the girl pawed at him. The eager eyes of Finney looked unasked questions.

Paul Pry took a wallet from his inside pocket. He took out some bills, a neat assortment of them.

“Seems to me we should have getaway money, just in case anything should happen,” he said.

“Nothin’ ain’t goin’ to happen,” Finney grunted. “But we’ll split it three ways, anyhow. How about the checks?”

Paul Pry pulled out twin oblongs of tinted paper, one on a pink paper, one on a light green. Both were deckled against forgeries by alteration. One was a check on the Farmers & Merchants National Bank, payable to the order of Thomas Drake, signed by Arthur Manser, bearing a rubber stamp of certification, and duly endorsed on the back, “Pay to the order of bearer, Thomas Drake.”

The other was similar, except that it was signed by Carl Chadwick, was drawn on the Seaboard Union National and was for ten thousand dollars.

Finney clamped an eager hand upon the papers.

“Slick! Thirty thousand smacks. Guess that didn’t come easy!”

It was the girl who nudged his ribs.

“But you’re not going to cash them, Finney, dear. You’re just going to use them as a lever to make Gilvray give you the confessions.”

“Of course, of course, of course!” said Finney, speaking rapidly. “When I said it had come easy, I meant that it was a cinch to get the confessions, thanks to the work of your splendid friend here.”

“How can I ever thank him!” said the girl, and her eyes gleamed with an affection which was far too ardent to be real.

Paul Pry thrust out his chest.

“Glad to be of service,” he said. “You can go right out with those checks. You won’t need to wait until the bank opens. Then, when you get the confessions, you can turn Tommy loose.”

Finney exchanged swift glances with Slick Sarah.

“No-o-o-o-o, that wouldn’t hardly do. Gilvray might make a squawk. I’d better let him know I can cash the checks at once if he should refuse. I’d better wait until after the bank opens.”

Paul Pry nodded vacantly.

“Just as you say,” he said. “Funny thing, Tommy never even mentioned he knew this was a frame-up. He acted just like it wasn’t.”

“Good old Tommy,” said Finney. “He’s playing the game all right. He wanted me to promise I wouldn’t even tell you it was a plant. He’s so afraid the gang might think he was in on it.”

Paul Pry nodded.

“There’s one thing I’m wondering about—” he began, and the girl swayed to his arms.

“Forget the details, dear. You’ve done your share. Let Finney worry about them.”

“But—” began Paul Pry.

She drew his head down to hers, smothered the words. When she released him, Paul Pry was grinning sheepishly, and the red stain of lipstick was smeared over his lips.

Thereafter they drank giggle water until the dawn.

At eight-thirty Paul Pry got restless.

“Gee, I sort of hate to be sticking around here!”

Finney shrugged.

“Go get some sleep if you want.”

“I’ve done everything I can?”

“Sure, sure.”

“You can telephone Gilvray and tell him where to come for Tommy when you’ve got the confessions?”

“Sure, we don’t need you at all. Sis can go with you, as far as that’s concerned.”

Slick Sarah’s eyes ceased to be starry. They settled upon Finney with a hard gleam.

“No, Finney dear, I’ll stay with you. Sid is pretty well tired out. He should go and get sleep, and we haven’t the right to ask him to go into any further danger on our account. But my place is with you. And I’m going to stay with you!”

Finney nodded sullenly.

“O. K. by me,” he said.

Paul Pry tiptoed to the door of the bedroom.

“I’ll look in on Tommy and make certain he’s sleeping,” he said.

He opened the door, slipped into the room.

He was gone for several seconds. Then he returned, grinning vacuously.

“Just like a child,” he said.

They patted him on the back.

“Sid, you’re a wonder.”

“Where’ll I see you again?” he asked of the girl.

“At my apartment tonight, dear. Until then—”

And Paul Pry got another application of lipstick. This time he noticed that the flavor of raspberry was very, very strong.

Chapter Four

“Some Sap!”

When Paul Pry had gone, Finney grinned at Slick Sarah. “Just like taking candy from a baby,” he said.