“I don't know why you're so damned suspicious, Jim,” he was saying. “Cusick says the stall about the Federal agents went all right.”
“Like a house a-fire,” said Cusick, complacently.
“I think, Akers,” Doyle observed, eyeing his subordinate, “that you are letting your desire to get this Cameron fellow run away with your judgment. If we get him and Denslow, there are a hundred ready to take their places.”
“Cameron is the brains of the outfit,” Akers said sulkily.
“How do you know Cameron will go?”
Akers rose lazily and stretched himself.
“I've got a hunch. That's all.”
A girl came in from the composing room, a bundle of proofs in her hand. With one hand Akers took the sheets from her; with the other he settled his tie. He smiled down at her.