"I figured I could spot a guy I wanted," continued Biff, "if I waited around at the Club Savilla. That's my regular hangout, and lots of smooth birds come in there. Well, last night, two of them showed up. Got talking with both. Expect to see 'em again tonight, and I'll sign up the one you want."
"Who are they?"
"One is Pinkey Baird. Looks like a gentlemen, and acts like one. An old con man, resting easy. Good with the rod. I've known him from years back. Just the smooth sort of fellow we want; talks in long syllables and all that."
"Who is the other?"
"I don't know him so well, but I've met him before. He's been out of New York for a while. Cliff Marsland is his name. He did time up in the Big House, but that's pretty well forgotten now. He's been mixed up in a couple of big rackets, and he's always come out O.K. The dicks haven't got a thing on him."
"Does he look the part we want?"
"To the dot. Younger than Pinkey Baird. Poker-faced, but he talks like a college graduate. I guess he is one, for that matter."
"Did you make a deal with either of them?"
"No. I wanted to talk to you first. They'll both be at the Club Savilla tonight. All I've got to do is give the wink to the right one, and hold him there after the other has gone away. Thought I'd talk it over with you, first."
"That's right," commended the lawyer. "From what you say, Biff, either one would do. I prefer Pinkey Baird, however."