“They want to see Gus, too. Better come along as you are. We won’t keep you any time. Who is the kid?”
“Oh, hell, what difference does it make!” He was a thief accidentally intercepted by a policeman while making off with stolen property concealed on him. His one play was to go with the officer without arousing suspicion, and drop the stolen goods while the eyes of the law were averted. Barney, at least, could not betray him.
“Back up, Gus,” he ordered the driver. “We ’ve got to go down with these people an’ help ’em put up a bluff that they ’re earnin’ their wages. Don’t you know any one else in this burg to make a stall with, Cork, excep’ me?”
Corcoran laughed, “No, Tip. You’re my only meal ticket.”
He had to go, and it was to his profit to go good-naturedly. He made himself pleasant on the way down to the Babbing Bureau, laughing and telling stories, with a convincing
