“I’m for you,” I said. “That’s why I’m telling you, split with them. They crossed you up once. It’ll happen again. Anyway, they’re slated for the chutes. Get out while the getting’s good.”

“I’m sitting too pretty,” he said. “And I’m able to take care of myself.”

“Maybe. But you know the racket’s too good to last. You’ve had the cream of the pickings. Now it’s getaway day.”

He shook his little dark head and told me:

“I think you’re pretty good, but I’m damned if I think you’re good enough to crack this camp. It’s too tight. If I thought you could swing it, I’d be with you. You know how I stand with Noonan. But you’ll never make it. Chuck it.”

“No. I’m in it to the last nickel of Elihu’s ten thousand.”