“Oh, yes, you will,” Patsy quietly insisted.
“You’re making a snitch of me, a dirty cur, a traitor to——”
“Enough of that, Pilot,” Patsy interrupted. “You’re going to do it, and do it up right—or you’re going with me! You know what that means.”
“But Bug Bannon will knife me for it.”
“No, he won’t. When I get through with him, he’ll be where he cannot do any knifing.”
“But——”
“Besides,” Patsy again cut in, “he need never know but what you thought you were acting on the level.”
“How can that be?”
“You can claim that you did know a crook named Sandy Glynn, and with whom you were friendly in Chicago. You can insist that I was made up as a marker for him, and that you did not dream that I was a detective. You can get by all right with that story, even if you and Bannon do come together again. He would swallow it, hands down, coming from you.”
“That’s the worst of it, blast you!” Flynn snarled fiercely. “That’s why I can’t do it.”