We goes up to the second floor and turns on the glim in the front office. Then I puts on a pair of gym. shoes, opens the door easy, and tiptoes down the stairs. He was just where I thought he'd be, coverin' up in the shade of the vestibule.
"Caught with the goods on!" says I, reachin' out and gettin' a good grip on his neck. "No you don't! No gun play in this!" and I gives his wrist a crack with my knuckles that puts his shootin' arm out of business.
"You're makin' a mistake," says he. "I'm a private detective."
"You're a third rate yegg," says I, "and you've been nipped tryin' to pinch a rubber door mat."
"Here's my badge," says he.
"Anybody can buy things like that at a hock shop," says I. "You come along up stairs till I see whether or no it's worth while ringin' up a cop."
He didn't want to visit, not a little bit, but I was behind, persuadin' him with my knee, and up he goes.
"Look at what the sneak thief business is comin' to," says I, standin' him under the bunch light where Rossiter could get a good look at him. He was a shifty eyed low brow that you wouldn't trust alone in a room with a hot quarter.
"My name is McGilty," says he.
"Even if it wa'n't, you could never prove an alibi with that face," says I.