Johnston McCulley

“ Brown told him. “We know you, all right, and we know the whole deal. You're a clever man and you work for a smooth crook, but there's others just as smooth, believe me. No use beatin' around the bush any more, Warwick.”
Warwick's demeanor changed instantly. He tossed the cigarette to the ash tray and sat up straight in his chair.
“All right,” he announced; “have it you own way. So you understand, do you? You know that I am associated with The Spider, do you? Then you must know what happens to men who go against The Spider!” ”

“ Once more Brown winked at Green. Oh, Brown understood! This clever John Warwick would play with them, expect to catch them off guard in an hour or so, and then——”
Warwick placed his own glass at the end of the table, bent his head, picked up the siphon, and pressed the lever.
“Nothing like a good drink to brace a man when he has had a shock,” he said. “You chaps want to be careful and not drink too much—might get intoxicated, and then I'd have you.” ”

“ Warwick Said.
He stood up, and so did Brown, and Green whirled toward him menacingly.
“No tricks!” Brown warned.
“You're rather a suspicious person, what?” Warwick said. “Don't seem to realize when a man knows he is up against it. My word! I'm one of those chaps who never puts up a fight when he knows that he's licked. Come with me, by all means!”
Brown stepped close behind him and held the muzzle of the automatic against his back, and Green followed a couple of steps in the rear. Warwick opened the door and led the way into the adjoining room. ”