It's a frame-up--and you're the goat."
With which shot he took his departure, too shrewd to attempt any
argument. He had left behind him a doubt. That was all he could do
just now.
Before Tim was out of the building Killen was gumshoeing after
him. He meant to find out whether O'Brien had been lying when he
said he was going to call on one of his friends. Fifty yards
behind him Killen followed, along Powers Avenue, down Pacific
Street, to the Equitable Building. From the pilot of one of the
elevators he learned that the big boss had got off at the seventh
floor and gone straight into James Farnum's office.
His mind was instantly alive with suspicions tumbling over each
other in chaotic incoherency. There was a deal of some kind on
foot. Jeff's cousin was in it. Then Jeff must be playing him for a
sucker. His teeth set with a snap.
Meanwhile Big Tim was having a heart to heart talk with James K.
Farnum.
The young lawyer had risen in surprise at the entrance of O'Brien.
The big fellow, laughing easily, had helped himself to a chair.
"Make yourself at home, Tim," he said jauntily.
"Anything I can do for you, Mr. O'Brien?" James asked with stiff
dignity.
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