Yollop eBook

George Barr McCutcheon
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 95 pages of information about Yollop.

“I can’t think of anything worse,” acknowledged Cassius, solemnly.

“She asked me what I thought your sentence would be, and I told her I doubted very much whether you’d get more than a year or so, in view of all the extenuating circumstances,—­that is to say, your self-restraint and all that when you had not only the jewels but the revolver as well.  That seemed to cheer her up a bit.”

“You made a ten strike that time, Bill,” said Smilk, his face brightening.  “I didn’t give you credit for bein’ so clever.  If she thinks I’ll be out in a year or two, maybe she’ll be satisfied to keep her nose out of my affairs.  If you had told her I was dead sure to go up for twenty years or so, she’d come and camp over there in the Criminal Courts Building and just raise particular hell with everything.”

Mr. Yollop turned his face away.  “I’m sorry to bring bad news to you, Cash, but she’s made up her mind to attend your trial next Monday.  She’s going to bring the children and—­”

He was interrupted by the string of horrific oaths that issued, pianissimo, through the twisted lips of the prisoner.  After a time, Cassius interrupted himself to murmur weakly: 

“If she does that, I’m lost.  We got to head her off somehow, Mr.—­er—­Bill.”

“I don’t see how it can be managed.  She has a perfect right to attend the pro—­”

“Wait a minute, Bill,” broke in the other eagerly.  “I got an idea.  If you give her that roll of mine, maybe she’ll stay away.”

“What roll are you talking about?”

“My roll of bills,—­you remember, don’t you?”

“My good man, I haven’t got your roll of bills.  And besides I couldn’t put myself in the position of—­of—­er—­what is it you call it?—­tinkering with witnesses to defeat the ends of justice.”

“But she ain’t a witness, Bill.  You couldn’t possibly get in wrong.  What’s more, it’s my money, and I got a right to give it to my wife, ain’t I?  Ain’t I got a right to give money to my own wife,—­or to one of my wives, strictly speakin’,—­and to my own children?  Ain’t I?”

“That isn’t the point.  I refuse to be a party to any such game.  We need not discuss it any farther.  As I said before, I haven’t your roll of bills, and if I had it I—­”

“Oh, yes, you have.  You got it right up there in your apartment.  I stuck it away behind a—­”

“Stop!  Not another word, Cassius.  I don’t want to know where it is.  If you persist in telling me, I’ll—­I’ll ask the judge to let you off with the lightest sentence he can—­”

“Oh, Lord, you wouldn’t do that, would you?”

“Yes, I would.  What do you mean by secreting stolen property in my apartments?”

“I didn’t steal it.  I found it, I tell you.”

“Bosh!”

“Hope I may die if I didn’t.”

“Well, it may stay there till it rots, so far as I am concerned.”

“No danger of that,” said Smilk composedly.  “A friend of mine is comin’ around some night soon to get it.  What else did she say?”

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
Yollop from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
Follow Us on Facebook