Sincerely, (Mrs.) JULIA M. DELONG.
P.S.--Please keep this confidential--at least from my son Percival.
J.M. DEL.
* * * * *
"Well," said Kennedy, as he handed back the letter, "O'Connor, if you
do it, I'll take back all the hard things I've ever said about
the police system. Young DeLong was in one of my classes at the
university, until he was expelled for that last mad prank of his.
There's more to that boy than most people think, but he's the wildest
scion of wealth I have ever come in contact with. How are you going to
pull off your raid--is it to be down through the skylight or up from
the cellar?"
"Kennedy," replied O'Connor in the same reproachful tone with which
he had addressed me, "talk sense. I'm in earnest. You know the Vesper
Club is barred and barricaded like the National City Bank. It isn't
one of those common gambling joints which depend for protection on
what we call 'ice-box doors.' It's proof against all the old methods.
Axes and sledge-hammers would make no impression there."
"Your predecessor had some success at opening doors with a hydraulic
jack, I believe, in some very difficult raids," put in Kennedy.
"A hydraulic jack wouldn't do for the Vesper Club, I'm afraid,"
remarked O'Connor wearily. "Why, sir, that place has been proved
bomb-proof--bomb-proof, sir. You remember recently the so-called
'gamblers' war' in which some rivals exploded a bomb on the steps? It
did more damage to the house next door than to the club.
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