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Johnson, Owen, 1878-1952

"Murder in Any Degree"

"
"I ain't tried to bribe you," said Greenfield, rising. "Thank me for
that--though another man might have been sent up for life."
"Thanks," Frawley said with a drawl. "And you'll notice I haven't
advised you to come back and face the music. Seems to me we understand
each other."
"Here's my address," said Greenfield, handing him a card; "may save you
some trouble. I'm here every night." He held out his hand. "Turn up and
meet the profesh. They're a clever lot here. They'd appreciate meeting
you, too."
"Perhaps I will."
"Ta-ta, then."
Greenfield took a few steps, halted, and lounged back with a smile full
of mischief.
"By the way, Bub--how long has Her Majesty's dinkies given you?"
"It's a life appointment, Bucky."
"Really--bless me--then your bloomin' government has some sense after
all."
The two men saluted gravely, with a parting exchange.
"Now, Bub--keep fit."
"Same to you, Bucky."


IV

The view of Greenfield sauntering lightly away among the noisy tables,
bravado in his manner, deviltry in his heart, was the last glimpse
Inspector Frawley was destined to have of him in many months.


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