“One guy, huh!” sneered Waldron. “That sounds fishy to me — and you sound yellow!”
ERNIE SHIRES leaped forward from the wall. Tim Waldron rose to meet him. For a few moments the men glared at each other.
Then Shires turned suddenly and walked back across the room. Waldron, viciously chewing the end of his cigar, resumed his seat.
“So you lay down on the job!” said Waldron disdainfully. “Went out to slug two guys and smash up a van. One bird cleans you and your mob! Tough bunch of gorillas you’ve got!”
Shires clenched his fists, but made no reply.
“I’m going to tell you what this means,” said Waldron coldly. “You think it means the end of my racket — that’s what you suggested when you came in here. Well, it don’t! Get that, tough guy? It means the end of you! That’s all!
“It’s putting me in a tough spot, because once a job like this flops, the suckers get cocky, and it takes a lot of teaching to get them back where they were. Now they’ll be on the lookout for trouble. They’re going to get it, just the same!
“The storage racket will be bigger than it ever was, when I’m through with them!”
“Yeah?” responded Shires. He was challenging now. “Well, half your mob got smashed tonight. But I’m game! I’m ready, too! I’ll get busy with the rest of the mob!”
“Listen, tough guy!” said Waldron. “You said these were my gorillas. You’re right! They are! Ten of them — that you know about.