“I’m not sayin’ anythin’, Nebr-r-rasky. It was told to me. I went to the bank, and they tell me Merrick drew the money.”
“Well, for God’s sake!” snorted Lonnie. “That’s awful!”
“Aye, it is. Well, here’s luck, boys!”
McLaren drained his glass alone. The Heavenly Triplets and Slim had no taste for liquor now. They went outside and sat down on the edge of the sidewalk, humped over like four crows on a fence-rail.
For possibly five minutes they said nothing. Then Lonnie broke the silence with—
“Joe’s turnin’ out to be a humdinger.”
Nebrasky spat dryly and expounded—
“Yuh never can tell which way a dill-pickle will squirt.”
“Five ’r no five—I hope he gits away,” said Leach.
“I thought there was somethin’ funny about him bein’ in such a hurry to git away,” said Slim.