"Naw. You know these here guys: wouldn't tell if they was dyin'—rather leave it to their own gang to square things. Crab'll wait till he gets well, an' then he'll fix Reddy's feet for himself."
"Still, you told Reddy what I said you should?"
"Tol' him we was on."
"Find him to-night."
"All right, Lieutenant."
"Tell him Rotello's squealed: he'll believe it because he hates him. Tell him the Dago's goin' to croak an's give me an ante-mortem statement—see?"
The patrolman stolidly bowed assent.
"Tell him the only way for him to square me's to do me a good turn," continued Donovan.
Guth nodded again.
"Same's we worked on the Crab himself ten or twelve weeks ago," he said. "I got you."