“By the way,” he said, “let there be no secrets between us. What’s your name? Mine is Pitt—James Willoughby Pitt.”
“Mullins is my monaker, boss. Spike, dey calls me.”
“And you make a living at this sort of thing?”
“Not so bad.”
“How did you get in here?”
Spike Mullins grinned.
“Gee! Ain’t de window open?”
“If it hadn’t been?”
“I’d a’ busted it.”
Jimmy eyed him fixedly.