"
"What fellow?" demanded Norton.
The two Pinkertons shoved Lamar forward. Norton gave a
contemptuous look at him. "Delanne," he said, "I knew you were a
crook when you tried to infringe on my patent, but I didn't think
you were coward enough to resort to--to murder."
Lamar, or rather Delanne, shrank back as if even the protection
of his captors was safety compared to the threatening advance of
Norton toward him.
"Pouff!" exclaimed Norton, turning suddenly on his heel. "What a
fool I am! The law will take care of such scoundrels as you.
What's the grand stand cheering for now?" he asked, looking
across the field in an effort to regain his self-control.
A boy from one of the hangars down the line spoke up from the
back of the crowd in a shrill, piping voice. "You have been
awarded the Brooks Prize, sir," he said.
X. The Black Hand
Kennedy and I had been dining rather late one evening at Luigi's,
a little Italian restaurant on the lower West Side. We had known
the place well in our student days, and had made a point of
visiting it once a month since, in order to keep in practice in
the fine art of gracefully handling long shreds of spaghetti.
Therefore we did not think it strange when the proprietor himself
stopped a moment at our table to greet us.
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