"I've an extra ten dollars in my pocket for you.

It's a wild night." His only task now was to rid himself of the stripped body of his victim, and he had acted with a devilish ingenuity of forethought.
Then, turning the corner of the "Valkyrie," Fritz Braun led the way along to where a snub-nosed tug lay with her hissing steam escaping, as she tossed up and down on the frothy waves of the yacht mooring.
The ringing of bells in the engine-room, the heavy trampling of feet, aroused the helpless, half-dazed Irma Gluyas, as Fritz Braun tenderly ordered the men to bear her into the little cabin.
"Give her a spoonful of this mixture," significantly said Braun, "I must look out for the luggage." With a delighted grin, the two expressmen received Fritz Braun's liberal donation.
"Happy voyage, boss," they screamed, as the stout little vessel twisted around on her hawser and moved out on the blackened waters, throwing the yeasty spray high up with the saucy thrusts of her blunt bows.
"Never mind that old trunk," cried Braun, as the sailors busied themselves with throwing tarpaulins over the traveller's half dozen boxes.
It was a heavy package left dangerously near the gunwale of the boat.

Mr.Fritz Braun was in a fever of good humor.

He had dropped overboard something which glittered a moment as it disappeared under the black surges of the freshening waves.

The faithless pistol of the dead cashier now lay twenty fathoms under the dark tide.
While the tug's crew busied themselves with their duties and hastily cast off the lines, the two women were crouching in the dingy cabin.
Fritz Braun, his cigar gleaming out a red defiance, watched the light of the Battery glide by him.