He wouldn’t look at me. He sat down and looked at nobody. He was busy trying to look as if he didn’t expect to be carved apart before he got away from these wolves to whom I had handed him.

I went on with the work, turning to Elihu Willsson:

“Do you want to squawk about your bank being knocked over, or do you like it?”

Max Thaler touched my arm and suggested:

“We could tell better maybe who’s entitled to beef if you’d give us what you’ve got first.”

I was glad to.