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Updated: June 5, 2025
There was a stir beside him. Val glanced up to meet the slightest of reassuring nods from the swamper. Jeems was with him. "Whatcha gonna do with the joint, Brick?" asked Red, tossing his cigarette down on the flagstones and grinding it to powder with his heel. "I dunno yet." The rival strode importantly toward the front door. "You might tell us when you find out," Val suggested quietly.
He felt very chipper and pleased with himself. He was managing the affair well, he thought. "You show up right plain against that white rock," he remarked. "If yo're figuring to gamble with me, think of that." "Whatcha want?" demanded Bull, sullenly. "Lots of things," replied Racey, shifting a foot an inch to the left. "I'm the most wantin' feller you ever saw.
Whatcha doin' in them pants and shoes if you're a patrol " "Hel-lo!" exclaimed the other indignantly. "Impersonatin' an officer eh?" Immediately the others closed in upon him, supremely confident of overcoming by concerted action that smallish, pale, and terrified body. Whereupon P. Sybarite' stepped quickly to one side and, avoiding the rush of one, directly engaged the other.
But I'm no more drunk than you are, Kittens, says I to her. 'Lemme call a cab now, like a good dear' but I can call my own cabs, dontcha fool yourself and I know what I'm a-doin', you bet! Say, my fren', whatcha say willye come home an' see me, an' hassome supper? Come 'long like a good feller don't be haughty!
Ellicott had hung up the receiver, leaving him to shriek "But listen " pitiably into the little black mouthpiece in front of him until Central cut in on him angrily with "Say, whatcha tryin' to do, fella? Break my ear?"
"I freely admit I have no card of invitation what or whatever." "Then perhaps you'll explain whatcha doing here," suggested the detective, not without affability. "Willingly: I came to find a friend a lady whose name I don't care to bring into this discussion unless Mr. Shaynon has forestalled me." "Mr.
I'm duly sworn in as extra guard and I'm not the only one, neither." "Did he come after you?" Miss Eliot indicated the ruffian at his side. "I seen the lady owner blew the bunch," that worthy remarked with a hoarse chuckle. "I wised Mike, all right. Whatcha goin' to do about it?" "Mrs. Brewster-Smith, the owner," Miss Eliot observed, "didn't seem to know that she had employed you. How about that?"
"I see!" said Billy nonchalantly, "An' whatcha gonta do if he don't come across?" The man gave him a scared look. "Oh, nothin' sinful son; just give him a rest fer a few days where he won't see his friends, until he gets ready to see it the way I do." "H'm!" said Billy narrowing his gray eyes to two slits. "An' how much did ya say ya paid down?" The man looked up angrily.
Had they tried to kill, in the night and drunk as they were, they probably would have failed; but firing at random, one bullet struck flesh. The man with the automatic flinched backward, reeled forward drunkenly and went down slowly, his companion grasping futilely at his slipping body. "Hey, you darn mutts, whatcha shootin' for? Hell of a josh, that is!" Jack shouted angrily and unguardedly.
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