"You're all right, Larry--and here's wishing you luck! Now get to
hell out of here before Gavegan and Casey drop in for a cup of tea, or
your old friends begin target practice with their hip artillery. I
want a little quiet in which to finish my packing.
"And say, son," he added, as he pushed Larry through the door, "don't
fall dead at the sight of me when you see me next, for I'm likely to
be walking around inside all the finery and vanity of Fifth Avenue."
CHAPTER XXI
Larry came down the stairway from Hunt's studio in a mood of high
elation. Through Hunt's promise of cooperation he had at least made a
start in his unformed plan regarding Maggie. Somehow, he'd work out
and put across the rest of it.
Then Hunt's prediction of the trouble that might rise through his
silence recurred to Larry. Indeed, that was a delicate situation!--
containing all kinds of possible disasters for himself as well as for
Hunt. He would have to be most watchful, most careful, or he would
find himself entangled in worse circumstances than at present.
As he came down into the little back room, his grandmother was sitting
over her interminable accounts, each of which represented a little
profit to herself, some a little relief to many, some a tragedy to a
few; and many of which were in code, for these represented
transactions of a character which no pawnshop, particularly one
reputed to be a fence, wishes ever to have understood by those
presumptive busy-bodies, the police.
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