The man turned his head. He was again on his knees, and had drawn nearer. He was now wiping the same spot so as to be within reach of Felix's ear.
“Downstairs—yes,” he returned in a low voice. “Upstairs—in the rear—across a roof—” He glanced again at the group and stopped.
“A gambling house?”
“No—a pool-room. That's why I give ye the tip.”
Felix ruminated, the man polishing vigorously. “What kind of people come here?”
“The kind ye see—and crooks.”
“Do you know them all?”
“Why not? I been workin' here two months. Had two raids—that's why I posted ye. It's the chop-house game now, with a new deal all around, but they're onto it—so a pal of mine tells me.”
Again Felix ruminated. “Women ever come here?”
“Oh, yes, up to ten o'clock or so—telephone operators, shop-girls—that kind. Two of 'em are over there now; they work in Cryder's store Christmas and New Year's, and they get taken on extra.”