Dillon demanded, “Is this straight?”
“Yeah, it’s straight all right. I’ve been usin’ my ears around that part of the town.”
Dillon stood hesitating, then he said, “Wait here.” He went to the door and beckoned. Vessi and McGowan put their cues down and wandered over Dillon shut the office door. Vessi and McGowan ran the mob for Dillon.
He said. “Sit down, you two, I want to talk.”
They pulled up chairs and sat down. “What’s up?” Vessi asked.
Dillon sat on the edge of his desk. “I’m puttin my cards on the table,” he said shortly. “We ain’t expanding like we should. That’s not your funeral, it’s Hurst’s an’ mine. Hurst is scared of the other mob; I ain’t. Okay. Suppose we expand an’ not worry about Hurst?”
The two looked at each other, puzzled. McGowan said ponderously, “Say, we gotta do what Hurst says, ain’t we?”
Dillon shrugged. “Why?” he asked. “Who the hell’s Hurst, anyway?”
Vessi scratched his head. “Ain’t he the boss any more?”
“Wait a minute,” Dillon said. “I want you to get the layout of this. If we expand, we’ll have to get rid of Hurst an’ we’ll have to get rid of Little Ernie. Tough job, but ain’t impossible. If we expand we make twice as much dough as we’re making now. For instance you two guys will be holding down a couple of grand a week.”