Carton led us into his main office, where Rubano was seated with
two of Carton's assistants who were quizzing him industriously and
obtaining an amazing amount of information about gang life and
political corruption. In fact, like most criminals when they do
confess, Dopey Jack was in danger of confessing too much, in sheer
pride at his own prowess as a bad man.

Outside, I knew that it was being well noised abroad, in fact I
had nodded to an old friend on the Star who had whispered to me
that the editor had already called him up and offered to give
Rubano any sum for a series of articles for the Sunday supplement
on life in the underworld. I knew, then, that the organization had
heard of it, by this time--too late.

Most of the confession was completed by the time we arrived, but
as it had all been carefully taken down we knew we had missed
nothing.

"You see, Mr. Carton," Rubano was saying as we three entered and
he turned from the assistant who was quizzing him, "it's like
this. I can't tell you all about the System. No one can. You
understand that. All any of us know is the men next to us--above
and below. We may have opinions, hear gossip, but that's no good
as evidence."

"I understand," reassured Carton. "I don't expect that. You must
tell me the gossip and rumours, but all I am bartering a pardon
for is what you really know, and you've got to make good, or the
deal is off, see?"