CHAPTER X
Crime Wanted—Male or Female
Half an hour later, when I left the building, Dinah Brand was sitting at the wheel of a pale blue little Marmon, talking to Max Thaler, who stood in the road.
The girl's square chin was tilted up. Her big red mouth was brutal around the words it shaped, and the lines crossing its ends were deep, hard.
The gambler looked as unpleasant as she. His pretty face was yellow and tough as oak. When he talked his lips were paper-thin.
It seemed to be a nice family party. I wouldn't have joined it if the girl hadn't seen me and called:
"My God, I thought you were never coming."
I went over to the car. Thaler looked across the hood at me with no friendliness at all.
"Last night I advised you to go back to Frisco." His whisper was harsher than anybody's shout could have been. "Now I'm telling you."
"Thanks just the same," I said as I got in beside the girl.
While she was stirring the engine up he said to her:
"This isn't the first time you've sold me out. It's the last."