The two men started up the street,/arm in arm.
The man from the West,/his ego enlarged by success,/was beginning to outline the history of his career.
The other,/submerged in his overcoat,/listened with interest.
At the corner stood a drug store,/brilliant with electric lights. When they came into this glare,/each of them turned simultaneously/to gaze upon the other’s face.
The man from the West stopped suddenly/and released his arm.
“You’re not Jimmy Wells,”/he snapped. “Twenty years is a long time,/but not long enough to change a man’s nose/from a Roman to a pug.”
“It sometimes changes a good man into a bad one,”/said the tall man. “You’ve been under arrest for ten minutes,/‘Silky’ Bob. Chicago bureau thought/you may have dropped over our way/and wired us/that they wanted to have a chat with you. Going quietly,/are you? That’s sensible. Now,/before we go on to the station,/here’s a note/I was asked to hand you. You can read it here at the window. It’s from Patrolman Wells.”
The man from the West unfolded the little piece of paper/handed to him. His hand was steady/when he began to read,/but it trembled a little/by the time he had finished. The note was rather short.
Bob: I was at the appointed place on time. When you struck the match to light your cigar,/I saw it was the face of the man/wanted in Chicago. Somehow,/I couldn’t do it myself,/so I went around/and got a plainclothesman to do the job. JIMMY.
At the corner stood a drug store,/brilliant with electric lights. When they came into this glare,/each of them turned simultaneously/to gaze upon the other’s face.
The man from the West stopped suddenly/and released his arm.
“You’re not Jimmy Wells,”/he snapped. “Twenty years is a long time,/but not long enough to change a man’s nose/from a Roman to a pug.”
“It sometimes changes a good man into a bad one,”/said the tall man. “You’ve been under arrest for ten minutes,/‘Silky’ Bob. Chicago bureau thought/you may have dropped over our way/and wired us/that they wanted to have a chat with you. Going quietly,/are you? That’s sensible. Now,/before we go on to the station,/here’s a note/I was asked to hand you. You can read it here at the window. It’s from Patrolman Wells.”
The man from the West unfolded the little piece of paper/handed to him. His hand was steady/when he began to read,/but it trembled a little/by the time he had finished. The note was rather short.
Bob: I was at the appointed place on time. When you struck the match to light your cigar,/I saw it was the face of the man/wanted in Chicago. Somehow,/I couldn’t do it myself,/so I went around/and got a plainclothesman to do the job. JIMMY.