job and let Shepard pull de
trick. Take it from yer Uncle Jim!"

Every syllable was audible to Burke, but Lorna was exchanging
pleasantries with Shepard, who had taken Baxter's seat.

"All right, Jimmie. Beat it yourself."

Baxter turned around as Jimmie quietly slipped away. Baxter leaned
over the table to smirk into the face of the young girl.

"Say, Miss Lorna, some of my friends are over in another corner of the
room, and I'm going to speak to them. Now, save the next tango for me.
Mr. Shepard will fix it for you, and if you jolly him right you can get
into his new show, 'The Girl and the Dragon,' can't she, Sam?"

"Where are you going?" exclaimed Shepard in a gruff tone. "You've got
to attend to something for me to-night."

There was a brutal dominance which vibrated in his voice. Here was a
desperate character, thought Burke, who was accustomed to command
others; he was not the flabby weakling type, like Baxter and Craig.

"It's better for you to do it, Sam. I'll tell you later. Jimmie just
tipped me off that there's a bull on the trail that's lamped me."

Burke understood the shifting of their business arrangement, but to
Lorna the crook's slang was so much gibberish.

"What did you say? I can't understand such funny talk, Mr. Baxter. I
guess I had too strong a cocktail, he! he!" she exclaimed. "What about
a lamp?"

"That's all right, girlie," said Shepard, as Baxter walked quickly
away. "Some of his friends want him to go down to the Lamb's Club, but
he doesn't want to leave you. We'll have a little chat together while
he is gone. I'm not very good at dancing or I'd get you to turkey trot
with me."

Lorna's voice was whiny now as she responded.

"Oh, I'm feeling funny. That cocktail was too much for me.... I guess
I'd better go home."

"There, there, my dear," Shepard reassured her. "You get that way for
a little while, but it's all right. You'd better have a little
beer--that will straighten you up."

Only by the strongest will power could Burke resist his desire to
interpose now, yet the words of the men prepared him for something
which it would be more important to wait for--to interfere at the
dramatic moment.

"Here, waiter, a bottle of beer!" ordered Shepard.

Burke turned half way around, and, by a side-long glance, he saw
Shepard pulling a small vial from his hip pocket as he sat with his
back to the policeman.

"Oh, ho! So here it comes!" thought Bobbie. "I'll b