"Yes, sir!" You'da thought from Otto's voice that he was talking to the Prince Regent. "Just where did you say you found it."
"I didn't say. But I found it out there." He waved a thick arm in the direction of the Drylands.
By this time a couple of sharpies sitting at one of the tables pricked up their ears, removed their pants from their chairs and began closing in. But I beat them to it.
"My name's Wallingford," I said. "Cyril Wallingford."
"So what?" he snaps.
"So if you don't watch out you'll be laying in an alley with all that nice yellow stuff in someone else's pocket."
"I can take care of myself," he said.
"I don't doubt it," I said, looking at the mass of him. He was sure king-sized. "But even a guy as big as you is cold meat for a little guy with a Kelly."
He looked at me a bit more friendly. "Maybe I'm wrong about you, friend. But you look shifty."
"I'll admit my face isn't my fortune," I said sticking out what little chin I had and looking indignant. "But I'm honest. Ask anyone here." I looked around. There were three men in the place I didn't have something on, and I was faster than they. I was a fair hand with a Kelly in those days and I had a reputation. There was a chorus of nods and the big fellow looked satisfied. He stuck out a hamsized hand.