"Well, well," one of them said, "the brain trust." He surveyed Flinn with frank interest, then faced Hayes. "Say, buddy, how does a man get a transfer out of this outfit?"
Hayes grinned his wolfish grin. "All in good time, partner." He pointed with his chin upstairs and raised his eyebrows.
The man who had spoken, a large, broad-shouldered youngster with an affably homely face, got up, stepped back from the table, and went into a vaudevillian travesty of a bow. "The great man has been prepared and awaits your presence." Then his expression changed. "What a party! I never saw so much liquor in my life! It's a lucky thing the rumpus room is soundproof."
"And girls!" one of the seated men said. "Man, oh, man!"
Flinn looked at Wilmer, and Wilmer shrugged as if to say, "That's the way it is."
"Just don't forget what you're here for," Hayes said harshly.
"Don't fret," the big man said. "None of us touched a drop."
"Neither did Dobbs," one of the seated men interjected. "I guess that's the only reason he's alive today." He guffawed loudly and suggestively.
Hayes leading, they entered a hallway and turned toward a flight of stairs.
"Your boys seemed very off-hand about all this," Flinn said to the government agent.