“His real moniker is Al Kennedy. He was in on the Keystone Trust knock-over in Philly two years ago, when Scissors Haggerty’s mob croaked two messengers. Al didn’t do the killing, but he was in on the caper. He used to scrap around Philly. The rest of them got copped, but he made the sneak. That’s why he’s sticking out here in the bushes. That’s why he won’t never let them put his mug in the papers or on any cards. That’s why he’s a pork-and-beaner when he’s as good as the best. See? This Ike Bush is Al Kennedy that the Philly bulls want for the Keystone trick. See? He was in on the⁠—”

“I see I see,” I stopped the merry-go-round. “The next thing is to get to see him. How do we do that?”

“He flops at the Maxwell, on Union Street. I guess maybe he’d be there now, resting up for the mill.”

“Resting for what? He doesn’t know he’s going to fight. We’ll give it a try, though.”

“We! We! Where do you get that ‘we’ at? You said⁠—you swore you’d keep me covered.”