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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"Half a Rogue"

"
"I begin to see," said Martin. "Warrington must be side-tracked before
the convention. Good. That'll be simple."
"Not very," McQuade admitted. "It's going to be a devilish hard job.
You, Bolles, pack up and go to New York. I want some information
regarding this young fellow's past in New York. It's up to you to get
it. No faking, mind you; good substantial evidence that can be backed
up by affidavits. Get the idea? Five hundred and expenses, if you
succeed; your expenses anyhow. Five hundred is a lot of money these
days. But if you go on a bat, I'll drop you like a hot brick, for good
and all. Think it over. Pack up to-night, if you want to. Here's a
hundred to start with. Remember this, now, there must be a woman."
"A woman?"
"Yes. A man has no past, if there isn't a woman in it."
"I can land that five hundred," Bolles declared confidently. "I can
find the woman. I'll write you every other day."
"Well, then, that's all. Good luck. No boozing while you're on the job
Afterward I don't care what you do. By-by."
Bolles took his dismissal smilingly. Five hundred. It was easy.


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