"Not this year," contradicted O'Gorman. "You ain't been round like I have, Felix. I tell you I know. Gents, if we go ahead and nominate either Skinny Shindle or Jack Murray, we'll all have to go to work."
"Who you got in mind?" queried Rafe Tuckleton.
"Bill Wingo."
Dead silence for a space. Then Rafe Tuckleton looked at Sam Larder and whistled lowly. Sam's eyes switched to Tip.
"I don't see the connection," said Sam Larder.
"Me either," concurred Rafe.
"I should say not," Shindle declared loudly.
"I'll tell you," said Tip O'Gorman, beaming impartially upon the assemblage. "Take Skinny Shindle. He——"
"Aw right, take me!" burst out the gentleman in question. "What about me! What——"
"Easy, easy," cautioned Tip O'Gorman, his smile a trifle fixed. "I ain't deaf in either ear, and besides ain't we all li'l friends together?"