"God, it is Frawley!" he cried, and fell back in a heap.
Inspector Frawley, advancing a step, repeated his command with no uncertain ring:
"Hands up! Quick!"
On the bed the distorted body contracted suddenly into a ball.
"Easy, Bub," Greenfield said between his teeth. "Easy; don't get excited. I'm dying."
"You?"
Frawley approached cautiously, suspiciously.
"Fact. I'm cashin' in."
"What's the matter?"
"Bug. Plain bug—the desert did the rest."