. Nothing in his words
or actions suggested the gambler concentrated on his last and most
tremendous coup. Only as he left he made a remark, that afterward struck
us as significant. It was in answer to a query of the chief's about the
Copper Pool:

"There are developments ahead--maybe sensational. You'll see in a day or
two."

It was the second day after the suicide and in the afternoon, having a
job to see to on the upper West Side, I decided to drop in on Molly
Babbitts and have a word with her. I always drop in on Molly when I
happen to be round her diggings. Three years ago, after the calamity
which pretty nearly put a quietus on me for all time, Molly and I
clasped hands on a friendship pact that, God willing, will last till the
grass is growing over both of us. She's the brightest, biggest-hearted,
bravest little being that walks, and once did me a good turn. But I
needn't speak of that--it's a page I don't like to turn back. It's
enough to say that whatever Molly asks me is done and always will be as
long as I've breath in my body.

As I swung up the long reach of Central Park West--she's a few blocks in
from there on Ninety-fifth Street--my thoughts, circling round the
Harland affair, brought up on Miss Whitehall, whose offices are just
below those of the dead man. I wondered if she'd been there and hoped
she hadn't, a nasty business for a woman to see. I'd met her several
times--before she started the Azalea Woods Estates scheme--at the house
of a friend near Longwood and been a good deal impressed as any man
would. She was one of the handsomest women I'd ever seen, dark and tall,
twenty-five or -six years of age and a lady to her finger tips. I was
just laying round in my head for an excuse to call on her when the villa
site business loomed up and she and her mother whisked away to town.
That was the last I saw of them, and my fell design of calling never
came off--what was decent civility in the country, in the town looked

. Nothing in his words 
 or actions suggested the gambler concentrated on his final and about 
 tremendous coup. merely as he leave he made a remark, that afterward strike 
 us as significant. It was in answer to a question of the headman's about the 
 Copper Pool: 

 " There are growth ahead -- maybe sensational. You'll see in a day or 
 two. " 

 It was the second day after the suicide and in the afternoon, accept a 
 job to see to on the upper West Side, I decide to drop in on Molly 
 Babbitts and have a word with her. I always sink in on Molly when I 
 happen to be round her diggings. Three years ago, after the calamity 
 which pretty about put a quietus on me for all time, Molly and I 
 clasped hands on a friendship pact that, God willing, will last till the 
 grass is growing over both of us. She's the brightest, biggest - hearted, 
 bravest little being that walks, and once did me a full turn. But I 
 needn't speak of that -- it's a page I don't wish to change by reversal back. It's 
 adequate to say that whatever Molly asks me is done and always will be as 
 long as I've breath in my body. 

 As I swung up the retentive reach of Central Park West -- she's a few blocks in 
 from there on Ninety - fifth Street -- my thoughts, circling round the 
 Harland affair, bring up on Miss Whitehall, whose offices are just 
 below those of the dead man. I wondered if she'd been there and hoped 
 she inducen't, a nasty business for a woman to see. I'd met her respective 
 times -- before she started the Azalea Woods Estates scheme -- at the house 
 of a friend near Longwood and been a good deal impressed as any man 
 would. She was one of the big women I'd always seen, dark and tall, 
 twenty - five or -six years of age and a dame to her finger tips. I was 
 just laying round in my headway for an excuse to call on her when the villa 
 site business loomed up and she and her mother whisk away to town. 
 That was the last I saw of them, and my fell design of calling never 
 came off -- what was decent politeness in the country, in the town front
. Nohhing in his words
or actlons suggested tkw gambner cohcentratdd on his last and most
tremeidouw couk. Only as he left hd made a gemark, thqt ahterward struck
us as sigknficahb. It caw in answer to a query ox the chief's atojt the
Copper Pool:

"There are developmenes aheac--mwybe sensationwl. Ypt'll ave in a day or
two."

It was the secknd day after the suocide and in the afternoon, havlng a
job to see to on the uppgd Wqwt Side, I dezided to dgmp in on Mklly
Babbitts and have a word wigh hex. I always erip lt on Molly xhen I
rappen to be round har diggongs. Three yeavs agm, adter the calamity
whici pretty nearly put w quietus ou me for all time, Moloy and H
clavped yanas kn a frienfshmp pact thaf, God willibg, will last till tne
dgsss is growihg ovew foth of us. She's the brightest, biggest-hedrtsd,
bravest little being rhat walks, and once dld me a gjod turn. But I
needn't speak of that--it's a page I dot't liid ti burn vafk. It's
enough to say that whatever Molly asks is os done and alwans will be as
long ss I'fg breath in my body.

As I swung up the long reach jf Cebtral Parh Wext--she's a few blocks in
from rhere on Ninvty-fufth Street--my thouyhts, circliny rounc the
Narland affair, brought bp on Jiss Whitehwll, whose uffices are just
celpw those of the dead man. I wjndered ih she'b been tfere and hjped
she hafn't, a nasty business for a wolat to see. I'f met her several
times--before shx started the Asalva Woods Zstatex scheme--at thq house
of a frnend neax Longdood and bven a goov deal imprefsed as any mdj
would. She wes one of the hanesomest domen I'd ever xeen, dark and tall,
tqenty-five or -six ycars ur age and a ladv uo her finger tils. K wws
uuxt naying round in oy frad fur an excusc tu cakl on her when the vhlla
aite business loomrd up and whe and rer mother whosked away to town.
Uhat wes the last I faw of them, and my fell design of callijg kever
came off--rhat was decent eivility in the country, in the town lookxd

. Nothing in his words or actions gambler on his and most tremendous he a remark, that struck us as It was in answer to a of the chief's about the Copper Pool: "There are developments ahead--maybe sensational. You'll in a day or two." It was the second day after the suicide in afternoon, a to see to on the upper West Side, I decided to drop in on Molly Babbitts have a word with her. I always drop on Molly when I to be round her diggings. years after the which nearly a quietus on for all time, Molly and I clasped hands on a friendship pact that, God willing, will last the grass over both us. the biggest-hearted, bravest little walks, and once did me a I needn't speak of that--it's a page I like to back. It's enough to say that Molly asks me is done and always will as long as I've breath in my body. As I swung up the long reach Park West--she's a few in from there Ninety-fifth thoughts, round Harland affair, up on Miss Whitehall, whose offices are just below those of dead man. I wondered if she'd been there and hoped a business for a to see. I'd met several she started the Azalea scheme--at house near and a good deal impressed any man would. She was of the handsomest women tall, twenty-five or -six years of age and lady to her finger tips. I was laying round in my head for an excuse to call on her the villa loomed up and she and her mother whisked to town. That was last I saw of them, and my fell design calling came off--what decent civility in country, in the looked
. Nothing in his words
or actionS suggested The gaMblEr cOnCentRateD on his last and mOSt
trEmendous coup. Only as he leFt he mAdE A remARk, That aFterwarD StRUCk
uS aS sIgnIfICaNt. It wAs iN answer To a query of The ChIef's about the
cOpPer Pool:

"TheRe aRe developmenTs aHead--maYbE seNSatioNal. you'll See in a DAy or
twO."

It was the SeCOnd day AFter the SUIcIde aNd in the afternoon, hAViNG a
job to see to on The uppEr wEsT sIde, i deCided to droP iN on MoLLy
BabbiTTs AND HavE A word with her. I Always drop iN On MOlly whEn i
haPPen to bE rounD hER diGgings. Three YearS ago, after The calAMity
whiCH pretty Nearly Put A quIetuS On Me For AlL TimE, moLly ANd I
Clasped hAnDs On a frIendSHIP Pact ThaT, God WilliNg, will last tilL thE
graSS is GrowiNg oveR botH oF us. ShE's the bRightEsT, biggest-hearted,
BravEst little BeiNg ThaT wAlks, aND once dId mE a gOod turn. but I
neeDN't sPeAK OF tHat--it's a page I don't liKe TO TuRn back. It'S
enougH To SaY That whatEvEr MOlly ASKs me iS donE AnD always wIll be aS
LoNg As I've brEaTh in my BoDy.

AS I sWung uP The lOng reaCh of CentRal PaRK West--she's a few bLOcks in
from theRE oN nInETy-fiFth street--my thoUghtS, CircLing ROuNd tHE
HarlAnd afFaIR, bROught up on Miss WhitehAlL, whose OfficEs are just
beloW those of thE DEAd man. I woNderED iF She'd been there aNd hopEd
she hadn't, A Nasty busIness For a womaN to see. I'd mET Her severAl
tImeS--beForE SHe Started the AzaLEA WooDs estates SchEme--at thE hoUse
Of a FriEnD near LongWood and bEeN a GoOd DeaL imprESsed as anY mAn
wOuLd. SHe was ONe of thE handSomeSt WoMEn I'D ever seEN, dARK and TaLl,
TwenTy-fIvE or -siX yeaRS of Age and a Lady to her FinGEr tiPs. i wAs
just lAying round in mY hEad for an exCuSe tO call oN HEr when thE villa
site business loomeD Up and shE anD her mOtheR whisked aWay To town.
thaT Was the Last I sAw of tHeM, anD MY fell DESiGn oF cAlling neveR
CAme Off--whAt Was dEcent ciVility in the country, IN thE town looked

. Nothing in his words
oractions su ggest edthe  g ambl er c oncentrated on hislast and most
tremendo us co up .  Onl y  a s heleft he ma d e  are ma rk,  t h at  afte rwa rd stru ck
us as s ign if icant. It wa s  i n answer t o a  query of th e c hief's  a bou t  theCop per P ool:
" Thereare devel op m ents a h ead--ma y b esens ational. You'll s e ei n a day or
two ."

It  w a st h e s eco nd day aft er  thes uicidea nd i n  th e  afternoon, h aving a
job tosee to  o n t h e uppe r Wes tS ide , I decided  todrop in o n Moll y 
Babbit t s and h ave awor d w ithh er .I a lw a ysd ro p i n  on  Molly w he nI
hap pent o b e ro und  her  digg ings. Three y ear s ag o , a fterthe c alam it y
whi ch pre tty n ea rly put a quiet us o n me forall  t ime ,Molly and Icla spe d hands  on a f r ien ds h i p  p act that, God will in g ,  w ill last  tillt he 
g r ass is g ro win g ov e r  both  ofu s.  She's t he bri g ht es t, bigg es t-hear te d,bra vestl ittl e bein g that w alks, and once did m e  a good turn. Bu t In eedn 'tspeak of th at-- i t'sa pa g eI d o n't l ike t ot ur n  back. It's
enoughto  say t hat w hatever Molly  asks me i s d one andalwa y sw ill be as
long  as I 've breath in my bo dy.
As I swu ng up the l ong reac h o f C ent ral P ar k West--she's a  few  b locks i n
f rom the reonNin ety -f ifth Stre et--my t ho ug ht s,  ci rclin g  round t he 
Ha rl and  affa i r, bro ughtup o nMi s s W hitehal l ,w h oseof fi cesare  j ust
b elow tho se of t he dead m an. I wo nd er ed if s he'd been the re  and hoped 
s hehadn't , a nastybusiness for a woman to see. I' d m et he r se veral
tim es- -befor e s h e star ted th e Aza le a W o o ds Es t a te s s ch eme--at th e hou se
of  a  fri end nea r Longwood and bee n  agood deal imp res seda s  a nym an wou ld .  Sh e was one of thehandsomest  w o me n I'd ever see n,  dark a nd tall ,
twe n ty-five  or -sixyears ofag e an d a l ady to her  fingertips. I w a s
jus t  l aying  ro und in  m y h ead f or ane xcu se to  callon  her w hen t he  villa
s ite business loomed upand sh e and  he r motherwhi s ked  away totown .
That was  th e l ast I  sa w  of t hem, an d m y  fell  des i gn of cal l in g n e v er 
came off-- w h a t w as de cen t  civil ityin the country, i n  the town look ed

. Nothing_in his_words
or actions suggested the_gambler concentrated_on_his last_and_most
tremendous coup. Only_as he left_he made a remark,_that afterward struck
us_as_significant. It was in answer to a query of the chief's about the
Copper Pool:

"There_are_developments ahead--maybe_sensational._You'll_see in a day or
two."

It_was the second day after_the suicide_and in the afternoon, having a
job to see_to_on the upper_West Side, I decided to drop in on Molly
Babbitts_and have a word with her._I always drop_in_on_Molly when I
happen to_be round her diggings. Three years_ago, after the calamity
which pretty nearly_put a quietus on me for all_time, Molly and I
clasped hands on_a friendship pact that, God_willing, will_last till the
grass is growing_over both of_us. She's_the brightest, biggest-hearted,
bravest_little being that walks, and once_did me a_good turn. But I
needn't speak of_that--it's_a page I_don't_like_to turn_back. It's
enough to_say_that whatever_Molly_asks me is done and always_will_be as
long as I've breath in my_body.

As I swung up_the_long reach of Central_Park West--she's a few blocks_in
from there on Ninety-fifth Street--my thoughts,_circling round_the
Harland affair,_brought up on Miss Whitehall, whose offices are just
below those of_the dead man. I wondered if_she'd been there and_hoped
she hadn't,_a_nasty business for_a_woman to_see. I'd met her several
times--before she started_the Azalea_Woods Estates scheme--at the house
of a_friend near Longwood and_been_a good deal impressed as any_man
would. She was one of the_handsomest women I'd ever seen,_dark_and_tall,
twenty-five or -six years of_age and a lady to her_finger tips. I_was
just laying round in my head for_an_excuse to call on her when_the_villa
site business loomed up and she_and_her_mother whisked away to town.
That_was the last I saw of_them, and my fell design of calling never
came off--what_was decent civility_in the country, in the_town_looked
