Bofinger gradually released his hold, sunk back and covered his eyes with his hand. At the end of a moment he said pleadingly:
"You're right. I have no kick comin'. You'll do something for me, Hyman?"
Groll puffed away on the cigar he had not ceased to smoke before answering decisively:
"No."
"Why not?"
"I promised him."
"Well, what?" Bofinger said coaxingly. "You ain't going to talk to me of promises and honor—come now!"
"Just that," Groll answered with a nod. "You won't understand. It's a superstition—so be it. But I owe what I am and what I'm going to be to Max Fargus. I shall do what I promised him."
"He's dead."