"Huh!" quoth Dempsey. "Not what I'd call a talkative guy."
This shortcoming could not be laid at his own door. He talked steadily on. After a while, though, a reaction of weariness began to blunt Dempsey's sprightly vivacity. His talk trailed off into grunts and he slept the sleep of a hurt tired-out boy.
Satisfied that Dempsey no longer was to be considered in the rôle of a possible eavesdropper, Ginsburg nevertheless spoke cautiously as again he turned his face toward the motionless figure stretched alongside him on his left.
"Listening?" he began.
"Yes," gruffly.
"When did you begin calling yourself Goodman?"
"That's my business."
"No, it's not. Something has happened that gives me the right to know. Forget that I used to be on the cops. I'm asking you now as one soldier to another: When did you begin calling yourself Goodman?"
"About a year ago—when I first got into the service."
"How did you get in?"