Bugsey suddenly appeared from nowhere and tagged along behind Fenner. Fenner turned his head, saw him and stopped. Bugsey drew up with him, and they went on together.
Fenner said, “Quite a racket this, ain’t it?”
Bugsey nodded. “It’s all right if you’re some big-shot,” he said, without enthusiasm. “I ain’t gettin’ places.”
Fenner looked at him sideways, thoughtfully. “Ain’t you gettin’ anything out of this?”
“Sure, sure,” Bugsey said hastily. “I’m not grumblin’.”
They wandered along the waterfront. Fenner thought this guy looked simple. He began to get ideas. He said, “What’s your rake-off?”
Bugsey said, “A hundred bucks.”
“That’s chicken-feed.”
“Sure, but it’s tough these days.”
Fenner agreed that it was.