“I’d have got fat, sir, doing that,” said McLauren, with an expressive grin. “Surest thing you know, in that case, the dick would have collared me.”
“You mean that the man who went by is a crook?”
“I reckon so, though I couldn’t swear to it,” said McLauren. “But he’s a gangman, all right, and I’ve heard he’s a gunman, as well. I only know him by sight, sir.”
“Do you know his name?”
“I do.”
“What is it?”
“Tim Bannon, sir, though he’s better known as Bug Bannon, being a small, bow-legged chap with a head like a bullet.”
“Humph!” grunted Nick, who knew all about the young gangster. “Did he say anything, or look at the man who had stopped you?”
“He did not. He was whistling and on the other side of the street.”
“How much longer were you detained, McLauren?”