"Well, Nichols, it's like this. Dutch O'Neil is in the jug for pasting a dude customer of mine over at my casino last night. Dutch is one of my bouncers and this fellow started upsetting the faro tables after he had lost his roll. Dutch bounced him out so hard the fellow is in the hospital with a broken jaw."
"And you want me to send the man some flowers?" the detective asked sarcastically.
Max Lynch ignored the thrust. "It's this way," he explained. "The guy turned out to be a big shot of the town—a broker or something. And he has turned so much heat on the judge the poor old fossil is afraid to let Dutch go. Now it happens this broker is an old friend and client of yours—George Kirby. Know him?"
"Yes, I know him very well."
"All right, you go and see George and soften him up. If you can get him to drop his charges and have the case nolled there's half a grand in it for you."
"I'll have nothing to do with it."
"I'll raise the ante," the gambler offered. "Seven hundred and fifty."
"There's not enough of your kind of money in this town to employ me on a crooked case like this."
"A real good guy, ain't you?" Lynch sneered.
"No, not good. Just sanitary."