Carter was silent for a time, and then said:
“Brockey, as I said down in Samson’s joint, I be on ter your game.”
“And I’d like to know how you got on to it,” Brockey growled.
“I’ll tell youse after a while.”
“Go ahead.”
“Youse is mixed up in de Red Dragon Inn murder!”
“My Gawd!”
Brockey bounded out of his chair as if he had received a shock of electricity. His face was the color of ashes. He stood still and gasped at Carter.
“Youse needn’t t’row a fit,” the detective ejaculated. “Dere ain’t no fly cop around here to hear me an’ pinch youse.”
“I’m a fool,” Brockey exclaimed as he wiped the cold perspiration from his brow and sat down in his chair again.