Picture Play Magazine (Oct-Nov 1915)

8 which were needed to establish the charge of graft. These papers he had been unable to secure. "Cheer up," said Molly, "and you will win out yet. If it is humanly possible to get the papers, I will get them for you." Knowing that Boss Flynn had observed her at the restaurant, Molly sought him out, and applied for a position as his secretary. Flynn admitted to himself that while old Hackett was PICTURE-PLAY WEEKLY hope that she would find the papers inside. "So that's your game?" asked Flynn, walking in on her. "I thought it was queer that you should turn up in my office just at this time. Well, I fooled you, young lady. I have the papers here." He tapped his breast pocket. Molly slumped down on her knees, and stared at him dumbly. "You must want them very badly," said Flynn, eying her. "You can't steal 'Now Boss Flynn," he cried, "I've got you — and got you good!" a fool to get caught, his taste was not so bad. Hackett had known her first, but what of that? "Yes," he said finally. "You can have the job. Come to work to-morrow." It was three days before Molly was left alone with the safe. But it was not three minutes after she was left alone until she was down on her knees turning the combination, in the wild them, and I won't give them to you, but you can get them." "How ?" "You can buy them." "How much?" Molly's lips formed the words slowly. She knew that money was not what he wanted. "It isn't a question of money," he said, as if in answer to her thought. "It's a question of sociability. Come with me to my rooms to-night, and will give them to you." So, thought Molly, it was the sam old story over again. All roads ende< in the same cul-de-sac. All men aske< the same sacrifice. Very well, she wouli make it. But she would make it for th> sake of the one man who had not — whi would not — ask it. "I will go with you," she said. Roger, who had fallen into the habi of dropping into Molly's little nest foi' cheer and encouragement, was waiting for her to return, when little Maggie in all innocence, let fall a remark whicl acted like a match dropped in a trair of powder. "Molly doesn't get home until prett\ late, now that she is working for Mr. Flynn." "Working for Flynn?" exclaimed Roger. "Boss Flynn?" "I guess that's what they call him," replied Maggie. "Aren't you going to wait?" "Working for Boss Flynn !" growled Roger in a rage. "So that's the little game? It was all a frame-up in the restaurant. Lord, what a fool I've been !" He rushed to the door. "What shall I tell Molly?" piped Maggie wonderingly. "Tell her that I know everything!" And he was gone. Where he went or what he did for the next two hours he could never remember. The first clear moment of consciousness found him in Flynn's saloon, face to face with Skinny Walsh. Walsh was intoxicated, and, therefore, he was bold. He swaggered up to Roger. "Got you right, didn't we, old boy?" he inquired. "And the funny part of it is that the girl — the one at the restaurant — is upstairs with the old man right now. She's a fly one, all right, I " Blind with rage, Roger did not wait for Walsh to finish, nor even to punish him for his insults. He sprang up the stairs and pounded on the door of Flynn's apartments. Walsh's jaw dropped as he saw Roger bound up the stairs. Fearing he had started something serious, he scuttled out and began climbing up the fire escape, hoping to warn Flynn before Roger could effect an entrance. As his eyes came to the level of the window sill, he saw Flynn confronting Molly, with some papers in his hand.