But Flash Donegan was demanding now. He acted as though he had two miserable offenders before him. He was ready to denounce the pair. He chose Lance Bolero as his victim.
“So you botched it last night, eh?” he quizzed. “Marty’s on the shelf, eh? Serves him right for not doing what I told him. You’re to blame, too. Why did you let that guy get away? You’re yellow!”
Bolero’s eyes blazed; but he managed to control himself. A crafty look appeared upon his face. He knew what Flash expected. Excuses. Bolero began on another tack.
“You’re talkin’ about last night, are you?” he demanded. “Well, that’s what I came to see you about. Last night.
“You gave me an’ Marty a bum steer. That’s all. There’s only one way a guy can figure it. You were givin’ us the double cross!”
FLASH DONEGAN was on his feet, threatening. His fists were close to Bolero’s face. Lance did not quail. He was willing to meet Flash any time.
“You’ll take that back,” growled Flash.
“Maybe you’ll take back what you said,” retorted Lance.
“You called me a double-crosser!”
“Well, you said I was yellow!”