“You want him now?”
“You are good at guessing. I do want him, and I want him bad.”
“What has he been doing?”
“I guess you know. By the way, where did that blood-spot on your shirt-front come from?”
Quick gave a great start. Then he looked down at the telltale spot. He had not noticed it before.
“From my nose,” he said.
Burt saw with half an eye that his companion was agitated.
“Mike,” he said, “that blood did not come from your nose.”
“I say it did, and I should know,” said Quick.
And he pulled himself together.