CHAPTER XXThe “Low-Down”!
When I came up, after a full 15 minutes, he was sitting, a sort of purring Cheshire cat-like look on his round face. His hands were clasped most contentedly across his stomach.
“Well?” he said benignly, looking up at me.
I resumed my chair across from him.
“I’ve got it all, Uncle,” I informed him. “Yes, Aldington had the whole low-down.” I paused. “It seems, Uncle, that about 6 months ago, this Fenwick, playing cards there in Montreal in a small public gambling place supposed to be strictly honest, found out, somehow, that the cards were all cleverly marked. Through some friend who’s a member of Montreal crookdom—for Aldington still maintains that Fenwick isn’t strictly a crook himself—he got in touch with a clever safe-burglar, then in Toronto. Yes, the fello
