"Not a damn sign here, Shorty. It looks like the fellow maybe did get away. But it beats me how. There ain't no place now for us to look but the alley."
"An' if he ain't there?"
"Then we'll hop this dump mighty sudden, I'm telling you. We'll slip out and leave Mike to explain how he got his coco cracked. With that guy loose, it won't be healthy for me hanging around here."
"He ain't got the goods on you, has he?"
"No, he ain't got the goods, but he is dead wise to some things, and he didn't get out of that shindy up stairs without getting hurt. He'll be sore all right, and will raise all the hell he can. It's safer to keep out of the way."
"An' what about that other buck, Hobart? It won't do to have him picked up, if this guy gets the harness bulls to take a look around here."
"That ain't his style, Shorty; he won't spiel anything to the cops about this row. He's an ex-soldier, a Captain, and he's nuts on the girl. That's why he dipped into this mess—trying to save her—see? Maybe he won't be so keen now, after the song and dance she gave him up stairs. I'm half inclined to think the guy will drop out entirely, damn glad to get off alive, now he believes she is as rotten as the rest of us. But I ain't sure—maybe he is the kind that sticks. That's why I don't take any chances just now. Things ain't quite ripe for a get away—see?"
"Sure; she gave him some straight stuff, hey?"
"She certainly did; she's as smart as she is good looking. It somehow don't strike me this guy is going to bother her any more. I'm figuring that he's out of it."
"But his partner?"