“The chances are he’ll wait a couple more. Know anything about this Personville?”
Dick shook his head. Mickey said:
“Only that I’ve heard parties call it Poisonville like they meant it.”
I told them what I knew and what I had done. The telephone bell interrupted my tale in the last quarter.
Dinah Brand’s lazy voice:
“Hello! How’s the wrist?”
“Only a burn. What do you think of the crush-out?”
“It’s not my fault,” she said. “I did my part. If Noonan couldn’t hold him, that’s just too bad. I’m coming downtown to buy a hat this afternoon. I thought I’d drop in and see you for a couple of minutes if you’re going to be there.”
“What time?”
“Oh, around three.”
“Right, I’ll expect you, and I’ll have that two hundred and a dime I owe you.”
“Do,” she said. “That’s what I’m coming in for. Ta-ta.”
I went back to my seat and my story.
When I had finished, Mickey Linehan whistled and said:
“No wonder you’re scared to send in any reports. The Old Man wouldn’t do much if he knew what you’ve been up to, would he?”