Donovan walked to the door of the rollroom. He opened it.
"Say, one o' you fellows," he called to a group of officers in plain clothes. "Go out an' find Guth an' tell him to come in here right away. I want him." Then he turned to Quirk: "It's got to be to-night?"
Quirk nodded:
"Make it an hour and a half if you can."
"Well, I can't."
"Then as near as you can."
"Gee," said Donovan, "I certainly am sick of this whole business! Well—come back in an hour an' forty-five minutes an' we'll see what's doin'."
§7. He greeted Guth with a roar.
"You're a hell of a cop, you are! What sort of a job do you think you've got, anyway? Rag-pickin'?"
Guth, who was used to these rages, stood at attention. The scar from his mouth to the corner of his jaw-bone twitched heavily.