“Cates?” Lonnie screwed up his eyes. “Oh, yeah—the detective! Why, I think he died, didn’t he?” Lonnie turned to Nebrasky.
“Oh, yeah—Cates. Believe he did, Lonnie.”
“Uh-huh,” Lonnie turned to Ralston. “Yeah, he died. Have a drink, Jack?”
“Nope.”
Ralston turned on his heel and went out.
“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!” laughed Nebrasky. “Wait’ll they find him.”
“They found him,” said Sleepy. “We’ll probably have to pay for that busted window.”
“But wasn’t it worth it?” chuckled Nebrasky. “I never went higher in my life. There goes the hearse.”
They walked to the door and saw several men pulling the hearse back to its shed. They could see a crowd in front of the bank, and apparently there was a man on a ladder, nailing boards over the broken window.
“Where in heck is Honey?” asked Sleepy. “By golly, we’re shy one man!”