"Five to six hundred floaters picked up every year.

Nobody knows; nobody cares! "Now," sagely concluded Emil, "if Clayton could have been led off, then it's dead easy; but he started straight for the bank, and never got there.

The gang may have piped him off for months, and they worked on him, right here in the heart of town." "Keep your mouth shut.

Post me, on the quiet," said Ferris, as he remembered his telegrams.

When Emil Einstein was left alone, he calmly counted his bills.
"Pretty good throw-off," he murmured.