and unfolded a sheet of paper on which a clipping from a newspaper was pasted.
"From the Los Angeles Times," he said aloud as he made note of a brief inscription at the bottom.
But Sadie's thoughts, at the moment, were not concerned with that communication.
"It's all right t' talk about tracin' up these things, but that kind o' tracin' takes yuh through a stack o' rough-neck work, and yuh know it as well as I do! The slooth-king who sits in a swivel-chair and rounds up the big crook by tappin' a two-story bean is all right for the movies, but it won't go in real life. And if yuh ain't ready to get your roof tore off yuh'd better can your hide-and-seek game wit' the Big House boys!"
"Just a minute!" expostulated Wilsnach, preoccupied with his sheet of paper.
"What's the dope, anyway?" demanded Sadie, blinking at the sudden solemnity of Wilsnach's face, as he stared abstractedly across the table at her.
"Listen," he said, turning back to the clipping which he held in his hand. Then he read aloud:
