"Oh," he replied airily, "she was a girl who had knocked about
considerably in the Tenderloin. I don't know just what her story
was, but I suppose there was some fellow who got her to come to
New York and then left her in the lurch. She wasn't a New Yorker.
She seems to have drifted from one thing to another--until finally
in order to get money she came down and offered her services to
the police, in this gambling war."
Herman had answered the question, but when I examined the answer I
found it contained precious little. Perhaps it was indeed all he
knew, for, although Garrick put several other questions to him and
he answered quite readily and with apparent openness, there was
very little more that we learned.
"Yes," concluded Herman, "someone cooked her, all right. They
don't take long to square things with anyone who raps to the
'bulls.'"
"That's right," agreed Garrick. "And the underworld isn't alone in
that feeling. No one likes a 'snitch.'"
"Bet your life," emphasized Herman heartily, then edging toward
the door, he said, "Well, gentlemen, I'm glad to meet you and I'll
work with you.
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