“Baloney!” sneered the defiant Clipper.
“You’re leaving here, Clipper,” said Cliff. “Leaving without your rod. Come over here, and don’t lower your hands.”
Clipper obeyed. Cliff stopped him before he was too close. With a quick, decisive action, he caught the butt of Clipper’s revolver and dropped the weapon on the floor. He stepped back and waved the man toward the center of the room.
Clipper retired sullenly. Bodine had made no motion. It was easy to see that Cliff’s businesslike methods had impressed him.
CLIFF made no motion to pick up the revolver that lay on the floor. That could come later. Instead, he motioned to Bodine, and pointed toward the telephone with his left hand.
“You’re going to call your mob, Bodine,” he said. “Tell them to hop over from the Goliath Hotel. As soon as I know they’re on the way, you’re going to travel, Clipper — and I’ll follow. So keep going, plenty fast!”
Bodine, seeing salvation, kept his hands well away from his body as he reached for the telephone. He gave a number, and when the hotel responded, asked for his suite on the eighteenth floor. Without stopping to inquire who was at the other end, he gave his hasty information.
“I’m over at my hideout,” he said. “Suite 458, the Maurice Apartments. There’s a guy here who’s trying to croak me. Get some gorillas over here quick!”
There was a response; then Bodine asked quickly:
“Who’s this — Gus?”