“See here, Spike,” said Patsy, “what is this you’re givin’ me? What I know is that Mr. Herron paid the widder his good money for those things, and that they were stolen from him. Now, Spike, it was you who put it into my head from the first that a swell cracksman from Philadelphia, Lannigan, cracked the crib and took that case.”
“Dat’s right,” repeated Spike.
“Then you give it me that when you ran against Lannigan he wouldn’t cough up and let you in.”
“Dat’s right,” repeated Spike.
“Now I’m goin’ to speak a little piece,” said Patsy. “Spike, you have seen Lannigan since I saw you last, and you’ve got into the job.”
“You’re away off, Patsy,” said Spike.
“I don’t think I am,” said Patsy. “Lannigan has let you into the job, and you’re tryin’ to pump me as to who will give up the best for that case.”
“Oh, yer away off, Patsy,” repeated Spike; “ain’t he, Bally?”
The crook turned to the other one for confirmation of his words, which was readily given.
“Mebbe I am,” replied Patsy, “but if it isn’t that, what is your little game?”