Hurst said furiously, “You know all right. Get that man out of there and keep him out. I know your ideas, Dillon, and I don’t like them. I’ve told Conforti to take the matter into his own hands if that guy ain’t out by tomorrow.”
While he was speaking, Roxy came in. Dillon looked at him and jerked his head to the phone. He winked at Roxy and said “Hurst” with his lips not speaking. Roxy grinned and sat down quietly. He put his cloth-top boots on the desk.
Dillon said, “They’re crazy. I don’t know a thing about it.”
Hurst said, “You see to it, Dillon, or I’ll come down and start something.” He slammed down the receiver.
Dillon put the telephone down on the desk. His face was thoughtful. “You ain’t been careful enough,” he said to Roxy.
“What’s that? A squawk?” Roxy tilted his chair back.
“Yeah!” Dillon took a quill from his vest pocket and began exploring his teeth. “Quite burnt up he was. I guess he figgered Little Ernie would start on him again, the yellow rat.”
Roxy smiled. “I wasn’t careful,” he said. “I got right down to things.” He took a sheet of paper from his inside pocket and tossed it on the desk in front of Dillon. “Take a gander at that,” he said.
Dillon looked through the long list of names. “What the hell’s this?” he asked.
“Look at ’em.”