“I’m a stranger, almost; how about borrowing it for me?”
“No!”
“What’s the matter, kid? Ain’t sore, are you?”
Kennedy seemed really hurt and surprized. As a matter of fact, it was as plain to me as anything could be that Kennedy thought as much of Penoch as he did of any living human. He never missed a chance to slide in a statement that Penoch was a great little guy; and the number of tales he recounted that first evening, to prove what a fighter, thinker and all-round champion Penoch was, were numberless.
“Not exactly. But I’ve got something to say to you, Ralph, and now’s the time. First off, Slim, here, and Slim alone, knows the works. Understand?”
“Who told him?”
Kennedy’s face was a mask, now, and the eyes of a snake looked into mine, then shifted to Penoch.
“I did.”
“Give yourself the best of it?”
There was venom dripping from his tongue when he said that. He backed away slightly, as if fearful of a physical assault.