“That isn’t me, you dope,” Myra snapped. “Haven’t you got eyes in your head?”
Bogle blinked. “Sure,” he said. “Well, if it ain’t you, that dame’s certainly borrowed your geography. Who is she?”
“That’s what I want to know,” Myra returned grimly. “And when I find out, even a plastic surgeon won’t be able to put her right.” She reached for her drink and lowered a good two inches of the liquor down her throat.
I looked over at Juden. “We’ve got to do something, P. J.,” I said. “For one thing, if I don’t put myself right with Maddox, he might have a grudge against me. I wouldn’t like that to happen.”
“He’s got one already,” Juden returned. “You may as well know, Ross. I’m sorry, but you’re out.”
I stared at him. “What do you mean… out? How about my contract?”
“That falls due at the end of the month,” Juden returned, looking unhappy. “He’s not renewing it. He says you’ve cost him plenty as it is.”
“The ungrateful rat,” I said bitterly. “After all I’ve done for him too!”
“Anything might happen to change his mind by the end of the month,” Ansell broke in. “I shouldn’t let it prey on your mind.”
“I know that kind of a guy,” Bogle added. “You ought to call on him and kick his teeth in. That’ll give him different ideas.”