"How do you know they're stung?" inquired Ellis.
"From an expert on the ground. I got anxious when I found my own people were in it, and had a man go out there from Phoenix. He reports that the Streaky Mountain hasn't got a thing but expectations and hardly that."
"Well, you didn't say there was anything more, did you?" inquired the bland McQuiggan.
"I? I didn't say?"
"Yes, you. You got up the ads."
"Well—well—well, of all the nerve!" cried Dr. Surtaine, grievously appealing to the universe at large. "I got 'em up! You gave me the material, didn't you?"
"Sure, did I. Hot stuff it was, too."
"Hot bunk! And to flim-flam my own people with it, too!"
"Anybody that works in your joint ought to be wise to the bunk game," suggested McQuiggan.
"I'll tell you one thing: you don't run any more of it in this town."