“I knocked it over for you, kid,” he boasted. “Nothin’ to it—for me! I went down there and talked to ever’body that knowed anything, seen ever’thing there was to see, and put the X-ray on the whole dump. I made a—”
“Uh-huh,” I interrupted. “Congratulations and so forth. But just what did you turn up?”
“Now le’me tell you.” He raised a dirty hand in a traffic-cop sort of gesture, and blew a stream of cigarette smoke at the ceiling. “Don’t crowd me. I’ll give you all the dope.”
“Sure,” I said. “I know. You’re great, and I’m lucky to have you to knock off my jobs for me, and all that! But is Pangburn down there?”
“I’m gettin’ around to that. I went down there and—”
“Did you see Pangburn?”
“As I was sayin’, I went down there and—”
“Porky,” I said, “I don’t give a damn what you did! Did you see Pangburn?”
“Yes. I seen him.”
“Fine! Now what did you see?”
“He’s camping down there with Tin-Star. Him and the broad that you give me a picture of are both there. She’s been there a month. I didn’t see her, but one of the waiters told me about her. I seen Pangburn myself. They don’t show themselves much—stick back in Tin-Star’s part of the joint—where he lives—most of the time. Pangburn’s been there since Sunday. I went down there and—”
“Learn who the girl is? Or anything about what they’re up to?”