asking questions or something. Then he came over and started to give this side a whirl, and after a while he rings the bell. I tell the old woman and her husband to get him in, stall him along, and see what he says for himself. He’s got a song and dance about looking for a guy what seen an old woman bumped by a street car—but that’s the bunk! He’s gunning for us. There ain’t nothing else to it. I went in and stuck him up just now. I meant to wait till you come, but I was scared he’d get nervous and beat it. Here’s his stuff if you want to give it the once over.”
The British voice:
“You shouldn’t have shown yourself to him. The others could have taken care of him.”
Hook:
“What’s the diff? Chances is he knows us all anyway. But supposing he didn’t, what diff does it make?”
The drawling British voice:
“It may make a deal of difference. It was stupid.”
Hook, blustering:
“Stupid, huh? You’re always bellyaching about other people being stupid. To hell with you, I say! If you don’t like my style, to hell with you! Who does all the work? Who’s the guy that swings all the jobs? Huh? Where—”
The young feminine voice:
“Now, Hook, for God’s sake don’t make that speech again. I’ve listened to it until I know it by heart!”
A rustle of papers, and the British voice: