“I tried to argue you out of it,” Arnie said wearily. “Told you the stock was skidding. There’s a delay in a construction deal or something—not sure just what. But you said you had inside info. What could I do?”
“You could have beaten my brains out,” Gallegher said. “Well, never mind. It’s too late now. Have I got any other stock?”
“A hundred shares of Martian Bonanza.”
“Quoted at?”
“You could realize twenty-five credits on the whole lot.”
“What are the bugles blowin’ for?” Gallegher murmured.
“Huh?”
“I’m dreadin’ what I’ve got to watch—”
“I know,” Arnie said happily. “Danny Deever.”
“Yeah,” Gallegher agreed. “Danny Deever. Sing it at my funeral, chum.” He broke the beam.