the day he came to this ranch. Jerry Delaney had peculiarity to be left-handed.”
“Great Scott!” cried Holley suddenly. They turned to him. He had picked up the watch again and was staring at it. “Honest Jack McGuire—I remember now.”
“You know this McGuire?” inquired Chan quickly.
“I met him, long ago,” Holley replied. “The first night I brought Mr. Eden out here to the ranch, he asked me if I’d ever seen P.J. Madden before. I said that twelve years ago I saw Madden in a gambling house on East Forty-fourth Street, New York, dolled up like a prince and betting his head off. Madden himself remembered the occasion when I spoke to him about it.”
“But McGuire?” Chan wanted to know.
“I recall now that the name of the man who ran that gambling house was Jack McGuire. Honest Jack, he had the nerve to call himself. It was a queer joint—that was later proved. But Jack McGuire was Delaney’s old friend—he gave Jerry a watch as a token of their friendship. Gentlemen, this is interesting. McGuire’s gambling house on Forty-fourth Street comes back into the life of P.J. Madden.”
