When they had gone, Dillon got up and began to pace the office. Smart bastards, he thought savagely. It they thought they could pin anything on him, let them try.
Vessi, a thin little wop, put his head round the door. “You sure pushed 'em around,” he said admiringly. “These Federal dicks are gettin' too big for their pants.”
Dillon looked at him irritably. “You've gotta watch those guys,” he said. “They're just waitin' a chance to crack down.”
Vessi propped himself up against the door. “Sure,” he said. “They've been on the look-out for us for a long time.... It ain't gettin' them anywhere.”
Just then the telephone rang, and Dillon nodded to him. Vessi went out, shutting the door. Dillon scooped up the phone. “Yeah?” he asked. His temper was short.
Hurst said, “Who the hell is that guy you got looking over Little Ernie's territory? Listen, Dillon, I told you to lay off that part of the town. Conforti's just been on, complaining we've got a man askin' questions in Little Italy. What's it all about?”
Dillon grinned a little. “Search me,” he said. “How should I know?”
Hurst said furiously, “You know all right. Get that man out of there and keep him out. I know your ideas, Dillon, and I don't like them. I've told Conforti to take the matter into his own hands if that guy ain't out by tomorrow.”
While he was speaking, Roxy came in. Dillon looked at him and jerked his head to the phone. He winked at Roxy and said “Hurst” with his lips not speaking. Roxy grinned and sat down quietly. He put his cloth-top boots on the desk.
Dillon said, “They're crazy. I don't know a thing about it.”
Hurst said, “You see to it, Dillon, or I'll come down and start something.” He slammed down the receiver.
Dillon put the telephone down on the desk. His face was thoughtful. “You ain't been careful enough,” he said to Roxy.
“What's that? A squawk?” Roxy tilted his chair back.
“Yeah!” Dillon took a quill from his vest pocket and began exploring his teeth. “Quite burnt up he was. I guess he figgered Little Ernie would start on him again, the yellow rat.”
Roxy smiled. “I wasn't careful,” he said. “I got right down to things.” He took a sheet of paper from his inside pocket and tossed it on the desk in front of Dillon. “Take a gander at that,” he said.
Dillon looked through the long list of names. “What the hell's this?” he asked.
“Look at 'em.”
Dillon snarled. “Come on, cut out the mystery act. What is it?”
Roxy wasn't to be hurried. “All those guys there've got swell joints for your automatics. They've all got big corner stores and they've plenty of space. Suppose we persuade them to take six machines instead of one.... That would be gettin' somewhere.”
“Six? Are they big enough?”
“Sure they're big enough.”
Dillon got to his feet. “Little Ernie's got to be fixed first,” he said.
Roxy examined his finger-nails. “I got him tied up.”
Dillon stood still. “What was that?”
“I got him tied up. You've only to take the boys along an' there he is waitin' for you.”
“What's this, Roxy? Let's have it fast.”
Roxy took his feet off the table. “Little Ernie and his mob will be at the Hot Rhythm Club tonight. They've got some big night on or somethin'; anyway, the gang will be there. Suppose we go an' join 'em? It would be a fine time to meet all the mob together.”
Dillon demanded, “Is this straight?”
“Yeah, it's straight all right. I've been usin' my ears around that part of the town.”
Dillon stood hesitating, then he said, “Wait here.” He went to the door and beckoned. Vessi and McGowan put their cues down and wandered over Dillon shut the office door. Vessi and McGowan ran the mob for Dillon.
He said. “Sit down, you two, I want to talk.”
They pulled up chairs and sat down. “What's up?” Vessi asked.
Dillon sat on the edge of his desk. “I'm puttin my cards on the table,” he said shortly. “We ain't expanding like we should. That's not your funeral, it's Hurst's an' mine. Hurst is scared of the other mob; I ain't. Okay. Suppose we expand an' not worry about Hurst?”
The two looked at each other, puzzled. McGowan said ponderously, “Say, we gotta do what Hurst says, ain't we?”
Dillon shrugged. “Why?” he asked. “Who the hell's Hurst, anyway?”
Vessi scratched his head. “Ain't he the boss any more?”
“Wait a minute,” Dillon said. “I want you to get the layout of this. If we expand, we'll have to get rid of Hurst an' we'll have to get rid of Little Ernie. Tough job, but ain't impossible. If we expand we make twice as much dough as we're making now. For instance you two guys will be holding down a couple of grand a week.”
Vessi's eyes opened. “Sure,” he said. “I guess we'll expand.”
“Don't rush it,” Dillon warned him. “If you come in on this there's goin' to be a lotta grief for someone... Maybe it'll be you an' me. If you want the dough, I guess you gotta earn it, so it's up to you.”
McGowan said, “What are you goin' to do?”
The door opened and Hurst walked in. The four men swung round, blinking at him. Even Dillon was startled.
Hurst stood there, a heavy frown on his face and his lips twitching with rage. “What's going on here?” he demanded harshly. “Get these guys out of here, I want to talk to you.”
Vessi and McGowan hastily scrambled to their feet. They slid past Hurst as if they expected he was going to land them one.
Roxy sat where he was. He didn't look at Hurst.
Dillon pushed back his chair and drummed his fingers on the desk top. He stared at Hurst with blank eyes.
Hurst said, “Get this other guy out.” He jerked his head at Roxy.
Dillon shook his head. He won't be in the way.
Hurst stiffened. “You heard what I said,” he barked.
Dillon nodded. “Sure,” he said; “but this guy ain't in the way. What's on your mind, Mr. Hurst? You seem sorta steamed up.”
Hurst stood hesitating, then he sat down. “Look here, Dillon, this game of yours has gotta stop. I've told you before you gotta leave Little Ernie's ground alone.”
“Can't you take it, Mr. Hurst?” Dillon sneered.
Hurst sprang to his feet. “What the hell's this?” he snapped. “You take your orders from me, and when I say leave oft you leave off!”
“I've been getting some ideas that'll get us somewhere in this organization,” Dillon said, speaking slow. “Suppose we push into that ground you're so scared about? Suppose we give Little Ernie the works? How do you like that?”
Hurst was speechless. His face turned a dusky red, and his big hands clenched on his knees. “My God!” he blurted out at last. “This finishes it. You're out, Dillon Do you hear? Out!”
Dillon pursed his heavy lips and shot a side look at Roxy. Roxy sat in a heap, his hat tilted over his eyes.
Hurst went on, “You're crazy to think of such an idea. A thing tike that would blow the town to hell. I ain't having you around my mob any more.... You get out.”
Dillon leant forward, his eyes like ice chips. “Where did you get 'my mob' stuff?” he snarled. “You ain't got a mob no more, you yellow four-flusher. I got it, see? An' what I say goes with the mob. I've given you a chance, an' you're too damn yellow to take it. All right, from now on I'm runnin' this outfit, an' you're likin' it... get
