"Bum gag, I say. If they wanta gag whyn't they gag funny?" Mike snorted angrily. "Talk to Hitler and Mussolini, eh? Huh!"
And at that juncture, the telephone rang again. Mort looked up, then looked at me and winked. He turned to Mike, who'd started wrathfully for the booth.
"Hold it, chumly," Mort said. "I'll answer this one. If it's the joker again I can handle him better than you can."
ort walked nonchalantly over to the booth, took down the receiver, and turned to wink again at me.
"Hello," Mort said.
Obviously the voice on the other end of the wire said something. Mort grinned.
"They ain't here," Mort said, grinning more widely. "No. Not either of 'em. Adolf sleeps late and don't get down until noon. Benito is out having himself a milkshake. Who'll I tell 'em called? Huh? What's that? You call back? But who'll I tell 'em called? Huh? Gab—Gabby? What?"
Mort put the receiver back on the hook and turned back to us, stepping out of the booth.