as two bearded gold-diggers eased out through Bogie’s batwings.
Bogie went for glasses and a bottle of wine. “Winters, it’s time for our usual night cap. In a mood for one?”
Winters moved to another table. “Never was more so, Doc.”
Bogie returned with two glasses and a bottle. He poured, then sat down. As he drank he thought of something. It was such a startling thought that it almost strangled him.
He coughed and gagged. At length he put down his glass and blew his nose.
“Winters! They’ll hang that charm merchant!”
“Yeah?” Winters drank leisurely, his face impassive.
“Well, Winters, aren’t you going to do anything about it?”
Winters set his glass down hard. “Now, you look here, Doc. You ought to know me better than that. You ought to know I don’t go around stickin’ my nose in other people’s business.”
Bogie took up his glass again. “That’s right, Winters; you never bothered anybody in your life.”
Winters passed his glass. “Besides, if a charm merchant can’t take care of hisself, what could he expect of me? I ain’t got no charms to pass around. Go head, Doc; fill ’er up.”
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