"Bosey Magee," Nick promptly informed her.
"Bosey?"
"That’s short for Ambrose," whispered Nick. "That’s my moniker. I hang out in Boston most of the time, but I blew in here last night and went broke in the stuss joints."
"I get you, pal."[Pg 11]
"I held up a bloke an hour back and lifted a small wad. It was not enough, when I saw that the front-basement door of this crib was easy to get at. You can find out all about me from Jack Gleason, who runs the Orient House in Richmond Street, where I hail from," Nick added. "He’ll tell you Bosey Magee wouldn’t crab a game or squeal on a pal. That’s me, kid."
"And it listens good to me, all right," said Sadie, in approving whispers. "I’ll meet you on even ground. My name is Sadie Badger, and I’m out for the coin as you see me, or in any old way I can get it."
"That’s the right sort, Sadie, and you’re in my class. But you’re not cracking this crib alone, are you?" questioned Nick.
"That’s what, Bosey."
"Where are your pals?"
"I’m leary of pals just now," said Sadie. "I was in with a good bunch and in right, but an infernal dick got them a month back and sent them up the river."