his job of guarding Pop had been put in by Carter himself. He had 'phoned to warn Spike to hold Dillon there at any cost.
Carter now adopted new tactics. Pop had dropped into a chair. Carter sat down opposite him and hitched close. He smiled and adopted his best confidential manner. He would have to act quickly. The frustration of all his plans and the loss of a young fortune was fast approaching in the shape of the flying Speedy Swift, unless that mad youth were stopped, and it seemed too late for that now. Carter determined to forestall fate by a bold stroke. He laid a friendly hand on Pop's knee.
"I don't mind telling you now, Mr. Dillon," said Carter, "that it was I who told young Swift to send that telegram. I wanted you back here because I have good news for you. You will remember that several days ago I found a man who was willing to pay you $1,000 for that worthless Crosstown franchise of yours? When you refused, he withdrew his offer. Well, I saw him again today and, after talking to him an hour or more, I got him to make the offer again. Only this time I made him believe there were competitors in the field and hiked the price up to $5,000. Will you sell?"
Pop became thoughtful and stroked his chin.
"The offer is only good for today," urged Carter. "In fact, this man set the time limit at four-thirty this afternoon. He leaves his office then and he said if I didn't 'phone him by that time, the deal was off."
Pop was still silent, unable to make up his mind.
