“I don’t see anything out of the way about it,” put in Hewett. “It would be an easy way of getting even.”
The stout chap looked at him contemptuously through narrowed lids.
“Quite your style, isn’t it?” he inquired.
Then he turned to Morrison.
“Go ahead and tell him if you’re set on it,” he said shortly. “But I wash my hands of the business. I refuse to be mixed up in it.”
He got up from the table, and, without further words, walked to the door and disappeared.
“George is amusing when he throws one of those virtuous bluffs,” he said sarcastically.
He glanced over at the other table.
“Say, Bill—McDonough,” he called.
The big fellow looked around quickly.