"My dope was wrong, but it's a cinch a hustler like the Kid ain't hangin' around the boss for his health.... And he didn't kick in wit' that alibi because he loves me any too well.... I can't figure him at all."
If he could have heard a conversation then going on in Old Man Curry's tackle-room, the figuring would have been easier.
"Frank," said the old man, "I had my eye on you to-day. You ain't got designs on that fool's bank roll, have you?"
The Bald-faced Kid blew a cloud of cigarette smoke into the air and watched it float to the rafters before he answered question with question.
"How long have you known me, old-timer?"
"Quite a while, my son."
"You know that I get my living by doing the best I can?"
"Yes."
"Did you ever know me to steal anything from a blind man? Or even one that was near-sighted?"