"The big kind. You remember them Chicago lotteries? But you don't, o' course. Well, that's his game—lotteries and such like."
Gramont's lips clenched for a minute, then he spoke with slow distinctness:
"Sergeant, I'd have given five hundred dollars for that information a week ago!"
"Why?" Hammond stared at him suddenly. Gramont shook his head.
"Never mind. Forget it! Now, this stunt of yours was clever. You showed brains when you got yourself up as an aviator and pulled that stuff, sergeant. But you handled it brutally—terribly brutally."
"It was a little raw, I guess," conceded Hammond. "I was up against it, that's all—I figured they'd pinch me sooner or later, but I didn't care, and that's the truth! I was out for the coin.
"When you took over the costume and began to get across with the Raffles stuff—why, it was a pipe for you, cap'n! Look what we've done in a month. Six jobs, every one running off smooth as glass! Your notion of going to parties ready dressed with some kind of loose robe over the flyin'
