“Yes.”
“Gimme. You run a chance of getting into plenty of excitement tonight. I’m going home — I’d better take care of the bankroll.”
“I’ve got Fenner’s check too and somewhere around ten grand soft.” Kells smiled, shook his head. “Every time I sock something in a bank something happens so I can’t get to it. Something’s liable to happen to you...”
“Or you.”
“Uh huh — so I’ll keep the geetus.” Kells went back and sat down on the table.
The Greek began a long and vivid account of why Gilroy was the “coming champion.”
“I tell you, Mister Kells — your name is Kells, ain’t it? — Lonny is better than Johnson in his flower — in his flower...”
Beery said: “I’ll call you in the morning.” He and the doctor went out together.
Gilroy came out of the shower, dressed. On the way to the car, Kells asked: “Do you know Sheedy?”
“Vince Sheedy? Shuah.” Gilroy stayed close to Kells, watched the people they passed, carefully. “His place is right aroun’ the co’nah from my hotel.”