“He told ’em I’d made some crack, but that they wasn’t to pay any attention to me because I was slap-happy. Can you feature that? Louie Hazen, slap-happy! That’s a joke!”
“Then what?”
“Well, they really went to town, gave me the works, yellin’ at me that I knew I’d killed him and all that sort of stuff. Well, after a while I guess I convinced them that I didn’t know anything about it, and they told me I could go. Gripes, I was working all the time the murder was being committed. I tell you they’re nuts.”
I said, “I’ve got a little dough saved up, Louie. Breckenridge says he’ll give you a thirty-day layoff. How about really putting me in condition?”
“You mean for a fighter?”
I nodded.
His eyes lit up. “That’s the talk! We could really do something with you. You’ve got what it takes. You willing to go in the ring?”
“No. I just wanted to learn something about fighting.”
“That’s swell — but—”
“I’ve got this dough saved up, Louie. I’ll pay you just what you’re getting here. You won’t be out anything, and your job will be here when you get back.”