Carpenter nodded. "I've got my lines out. I hope to land it in a few
days. If Marston has it, or gets it earlier, so much the better for us."
Harleston had walked a block before he recollected that he was obligated
to Ranleigh to go in a taxi. The one in which he had come from
Headquarters he had dismissed, not knowing how long he would be at
Carpenter's, and he had neglected to telephone for another. He would not
go back to Carpenter's; and, anyway, it was nonsense always to be
guarding himself from the enemy.
He had not a thing they wanted, nor did he know aught that would be of
use to them; and his directorship of the affair was not of great
importance; another, if he knew the facts, could take his place and see
the matter through. That was the important point, however. Time was
exceedingly material; and if the Spencer gang caused him to disappear
for a few days, they would have a free hand until Ranleigh or Carpenter
awoke to the situation. It was not exactly just to the cause for him to
take unnecessary chances. A drug store was but a short distance up the
street, on the other side; he would telephone from it for a taxi.
A moment later, with the honk of a horn, a yellow taxi rounded the
corner and bore his way.
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