“I read-a every word-a. Slow. And I did find-a one those cameras special for G-men!”
Mr. Nevens puffed slowly and hard, his eyes smouldering. He put his feet down upon the floor, leaned forward now, elbows on desk, and staring into Dago’s black eyes.
“And you probably figured you were doing me a big favor by smashing it!”
“How did you know?” asked Dago, startled. “I didn’t-a tell-a you!”
“You didn’t have to, Dago. You know that! I guess I know ten years ahead just what you’ll do and say any given minute. Twenty years worrying over you from the Tonto Trail to this place has taught me that you’re almost more bother and worry than——”
“I’ll do what you say, Cowboy! Honest I will!” Dago cried as if his employer had threatened him with death or torture.
“O.k., Dago. I was just giving you fair warning, that’s all. Now, did you see anything else?”
Dago named almost everything he had handled in the cabin of the Water Witch and Mr. Nevens, known as “Cowboy” to his henchman, made no remarks till Dago casually spoke of “A piece of brass like-a from a yacht.”
“Brass fitting? Did it have—what was it like?” Mr. Nevens demanded, sharply.
Dago described it as best he could. Mr. Nevens purpled till his leathery face was a mask of rage.