And he certainly did. Burt Cromwell drank the brandy.
“Who was it?”
“Simon Costello.”
“Who is Simon Costello?”
“Don’t you know him?”
“I wouldn’t ask, blockhead, if I did,” replied the detective testily.
“He’s a friend of Quick’s from Philadelphia. Here’s what he laid you out with.”
Andy exhibited the sand-club. Burt looked hard at the fellow. The bartender’s features were all but expressionless.
“If I had got onto the fellow,” continued Andy, “you wouldn’t have a sore ‘conk’ now.”
Burt smiled.