“Well,” drawled Lanagan, “what else?”
“Nothing. That’s all I know. Going to try to get the case now, whatever it is.”
“Is that all you told him, Larry?” asked Lanagan. The Rat mumbled unintelligibly and shuffled away.
“The Rat’s answered after his breed,” said Lanagan. “He says no, it is not. Now, Horace—pardon me, Barrister Lathrop—kick through. You know I’ve got to deliver a story to my paper to-day. Come on.”
Lanagan never wasted words with Lathrop. There were a few trivialities that he “had” on that individual. But Lathrop balked.
“Look here, Lanagan, all I got’s her name and address. It isn’t square. She may have a roll as long as your arm. You print this story, the newspaper men go at her for interviews, tip her off about me, she gets a regular lawyer, and where do I come off? You fellows are always crabbing our game. I gave you that shoplifter story a week ago and you played it for a column. You know you did, Jack; now you know you did.”
Lathrop had been whining. Now he stiffened.
“I ain’t going to,” defiantly; “I’m tired o’ being bullied by you. Aw, say now, Jack, it’s a big case. And I got a wife and kids to look out for”—which was a fact—“and here you come taking the bread and butter out of their mouths. It ain’t square, Jack; you know it ain’t.”
All morals to all men, reflected Lanagan, and laughed lazily, pulling a copy of the Enquirer across the table.
“See her, Horace? Right on this page—page one, column two, right here, with your name in big black-face letters—a little story of about one-third of a column on that $750 touch-off on that Oroville deacon, who went astray for the first time of his life and was pinched as a drunk—to be fleeced by you and your precious band. There isn’t any way of getting his money back, or proving a case against you or the two cops who cut the roll with you and Fogarty. I didn’t print the story, but I’ve got the facts pretty straight; and it goes right here—right in this nice, conspicuous place for the grand jury to see and for that wife and those ‘kids’ to see also, who, singular as it may sound, actually don’t know what particular brand of a ‘lawyer’ you are. Get all that?”