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Davis, Richard Harding, 1864-1916

"Somewhere in France"

If they see you pass they may
think I'm not playing fair. So stop here."
The man nodded and dismounted.
"But," added the district attorney, as the car started forward again,
"if you hear shots, I don't care how fast you come."
The officer grinned.
"Better let me trail along now," he called; "that's a tough joint."
But Wharton motioned him back; and when again he turned to look the man
still stood where they had parted.
Two minutes later an empty taxi-cab came swiftly toward him and, as it
passed, the driver lifted his hand from the wheel and with his thumb
motioned behind him.
"That's one of the men," said Nolan, "that started with Mr. Rumson and
Hewitt from Delmonico's."
Wharton nodded; and, now assured that in their plan there had been no
hitch, smiled with satisfaction. A moment later, when ahead of them on
the asphalt road Nolan pointed out a spot of yellow, he recognized the
signal and knew that within call were friends.
The yellow ciagarette-box lay directly in front of a long wooden
building of two stories. It was linked to the road by a curving driveway
marked on either side by whitewashed stones.


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