“I am,” I said.
He shut the door, running his finger over the space where they’d dissolved the gold letters of his name. “They’re right,” he commented. “I’ll never be back—to stay; that is unless I’m caught before I catch Keeban. He had a good idea for me on that money, Steve; I can use it. Got it here?”
I nodded.
“Want to give it to me?”
“There’s a squeal set against you which you’ve got to square?” I asked.
“Who told you that?”
“Christina.”
“Haven’t you got us mixed now?” He looked at me.
“Maybe,” I said, boldly.
He got up. “Keep your damn money. By God, you, Steve——”