But, say, Kennedy," he added,
dropping his voice, "I've a little job on my mind that I'd like to
pull off in about as spectacular a fashion as I--as you know how. I
want to make good, conspicuously good, at the start--understand?
Maybe I'll be 'broke' for it and sent to pounding the pavements of
Dismissalville, but I don't care, I'll take a chance. On the level,
Kennedy, it's a big thing, and it ought to be done. Will you help me
put it across?"
"What is it?" asked Kennedy with a twinkle in his eye at O'Connor's
estimate of the security of his tenure of office.
O'Connor drew us away from the automobile toward the stone parapet
overlooking the railroad and river far below, and out of earshot of
the department chauffeur. "I want to pull off a successful raid on the
Vesper Club," he whispered earnestly, scanning our faces.
"Good heavens, man," I ejaculated, "don't you know that Senator
Danfield is interested in--"
"Jameson," interrupted O'Connor reproachfully, "I said 'on the level'
a few moments ago, and I meant it. Senator Danfield be--well, anyhow,
if I don't do it the district attorney will, with the aid of the
Dowling law, and I am going to beat him to it, that's all. There's
too much money being lost at the Vesper Club, anyhow. It won't hurt
Danfield to be taught a lesson not to run such a phony game. I may
like to put up a quiet bet myself on the ponies now and then--I won't
say I don't, but this thing of Danfield's has got beyond all reason.
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