Page:O'Higgins--From the life.djvu/334

 associate with barroom tables or the chairs of hotel lobbies. He had the bronze button of a fraternal order on his lapel and a masonic trinket on his watch-chain. There was nothing whatever about him to suggest the detective of popular tradition.

Yet he had been brought from Washington by the Purity League with enough scalps on his official belt to give him a reputation in those circles where fame can have no notoriety. He was rated by Wickson as "the only real detective I ever knew." And he had performed miracles for the District Attorney.

He turned his chair to face the door and sat down squarely with his hands spread on his knees. He said: "They tell me Madge was down at Headquarters the day before yesterday. She's keeping Cooney. He's out again. They're using her to frame it up with him to bump you off."

That is to say, he told Wickson that at Police Headquarters they were arranging to have the District Attorney murdered by an ex-policeman named Cooney whom Wickson had prosecuted and sent to prison.

Wickson raised one eyebrow at him, smiling wryly. "Tim," he said, "McPhee Harris has slumped on me."

Collins repeated: "They're going to try to bump you off. They've got Cooney worked up to it. They're keeping him just drunk enough to do it. He's going to shoot you. That's what he's hanging around the court-house for."