see that you have something on your mind."
Varney pulled a match from the little metal box-holder, and looked at
him with reluctant admiration. "Sherlock Holmes Maginnis! I _have_
something on my mind. A friend dropped it there half an hour ago, and
now I 've come to drop it on yours." He glanced at the room's two doors
and saw that both were shut. "Time is short. The outfit upstairs may
drift in any minute. Listen. Do you recall telling me the other day,
with tears in your eyes, that you were slowly dying for something new
and interesting to do?"
Peter nodded.
"I think of your pleasure," said Varney, "always. By looking about me
and keeping my eyes and ears open at all hours, I have found you just
the thing."
"New and interesting?"
"There are men in this town who would run themselves to death trying to
get in it on the ground floor."
Maginnis shook his head.
"I have done everything in this world," he said almost sadly, "except, I
may say, the felonies."
"But this," said Varney, "is a felony."
Struck by his tone, Peter glanced up. "Mean it?"
"Sure thing."
"As I remarked before, what is the proposition?"
"To sum it all up in a word," said Varney, "there's a job of kidnapping
on and I happened to get the contract. That's all there is to the little
trifle."
Peter swung his feet around to the floor, and sat up. His conviction
that Varney was trying to be funny died hard.
Varney laughed. "I need a pal," he added. "Five minutes ago I telephoned
and got permission to offer the place to you."
"Stop being so confounded mysterious," Peter broke out, "and go ahead!"
Varney blew smoke thoughtfully and said, "I will. In fact, that's what I
came for. It's a devil of a delicate little matter to talk about to
anybody, as it happens. Of course, what I tell you must never go an inch
further, whether you come along or not."
"Naturally."
"You know my Uncle Elbert?"
"Old Carstairs?"
Varney nodded. "He wouldn't thank you for the adjective, though. I got
the contract from him. By the way, he's not my uncle, of course; he was
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