“What the hell are we waiting for?” Bogle snarled, kicking back his chair. “We’ve gotta nail that dame.”
The waiter came up with the check. He glanced at Bogle’s congested face and a look of alarm came into his eyes. “Is anything wrong, tenors?” he asked.
“We’ve been robbed,” Bogle snarled. “Get out of the way.”
“But the Senorita has gone,” the waiter said. “She has never robbed our clients before they settled their check. That is very bad of her.”
Bogle and Ansell stared at each other. “What do you mean?” Ansell demanded. “Do you know this girl?”
“Why, yes.” The waiter smiled, “she is very beautiful and she has very clever fingers. She comes here often. It is good for her line of work.”
Bogle clenched his fists. “What about us?” he said furiously. “Don’t we get any protection?”
The waiter lifted apologetic shoulders, “But the tenors asked her to their table. I thought you knew her.”
“Let’s get out of here, Bogle,” Ansell said. “We asked for it.”
“But, there is the question of the check,” the waiter said, looking distressed.