But now his eyes were fixed on the proprietor's back with a sort of speculative curiosity.

There was a private room off the passage, with a window on the lane; but they must be favoured customers indeed that Bristol Bob would condescend to serve personally--any one who knew Bristol Bob knew that.
Jimmie Dale slowed his shuffling gait, then quickened it again.

Bristol Bob opened the door and passed into the private room--the door was just closing as Jimmie Dale shuffled by.

He had had only a glance inside--but it was enough.

They were favoured customers indeed! It was no wonder that Bristol Bob himself was on the job! Two men were in the room: Lannigan of headquarters, rated the smartest plain-clothes man in the country--and, across the table from Lannigan, Whitey Mack, as clever, finished and daring a crook as was to be found in the Bad Lands, whose particular "line" was diamonds, or, in the vernacular of his ilk, "white stones," that had earned him the sobriquet of "Whitey." Lannigan of headquarters, Whitey Mack of the underworld, sworn enemies those two--in secret session! Bristol Bob might well play the part of outer guard.