“Jumps, nothing!” declared Flash. “I’m sitting pretty, Dip, and so are you — because you’re sticking along with me. Ours is the sweetest racket in New York — all gravy and very little trouble.”
“I’m taking your word for it, Flash. But I’ve got to admit I don’t know what it’s all about.”
“Don’t be a sap, Dip. You know what we’re doing. Keeping these uptown warehousemen free from trouble. That’s simple enough, isn’t it? Why do you think I put Marty Jennings and Pete Boutonne on the job? Just to give them something to do?”
“Don’t try to kid me, Flash,” retorted Dip. “I’m with you — I don’t have to tell you that. But I’m not falling for a lot of hokum. I know the rackets too well. Lookit, Flash: Why do you take these guys on, keep them a while, and then let them go?
“Pete was with you two months — then he drifted away. Marty has been with you a little less than that. You’re talking about letting him go. Want me to promote another guy to take his place. The same way with those other fellows you had—”
“Listen, Dip.” Flash was talking with the smoothness that had gained him his reputation in gangland. “You know me well enough to know that I work different from these other gazebos. I’ve got my methods.
“Why keep a bunch of gorillas and let them get cocky? I use brains. Give a guy a soft snap. Treat him right. Pay him plenty. Then, when you need him, he’ll jump with you right away without asking questions.
“I’ve got two birds working for me right now. Marty Jennings and this fellow, Lance Bolero, who came back when Pete Boutonne left. Three, I’ve got — counting you. That’s enough. When I want more, all I’ve got to do is send out a hurry call.
“The old boys will be back — and they all know their onions. They’re glad to work for Flash Donegan.”
“That’s a good line, Flash,” grinned Dip. “But it ain’t the way you used to work. Your idea was always to get bigger and bigger. I was to have my mob — under yours. Then you wise me up, a while ago, that you’ve landed the best racket going.