"I found him all right, and I've got something. I guess it's worth a dollar, Madam Spoll."
"Let's hear it, first," said Vixley.
"I done the insurance agent act, and I jollied him good." Ringa grinned, showing a hole in his mouth where two front teeth should have been.
"You jollied him," Vixley showed his yellow teeth. "Lord, you don't look it!"
"I did though," the pale youth protested. "I conned him for near an hour."
"You're sure he didn't get on to you?" Madam Spoll asked, regarding her head sidewise in the glass and patting the blue bow on her throat.
"Sure! I was a dead ringer for the real-thing agent, and I had the books to show for it. I worked him for an insurance policy."
"Well? What did he say?" Madam Spoll turned on him like a mighty gun.
"He was caught between two trains once on the Oakland Mole, and I guess he was squeezed pretty bad. He said it was a close call."
"That's all right," said Vixley; "we can trim that up in good shape, can't we, Gert?"