Only his eyes had moved.

 

Tom shifted his weight on the sofa again, blew a deep breath out through his

nose, and growled plaintively: “We’re not wanting to make any trouble, Sam.”

 

Spade, ignoring Tom, said to Dundy: “Well, what do you want? Talk turkey. Who in

hell do you think you are, coming in here trying to rope me?”

 

“All right,” Dundy said in his chest, “sit down and listen.”

 

“I’ll sit or stand as I damned please,” said Spade, not moving.

 

“For Christ’s sake be reasonable,” Tom begged. “What’s the use of us having a

row? If you want to know why we didn’t talk turkey it’s because when I asked you

who this Thursby was you as good as told me it was none of my business. You

can’t treat us that way, Sam. It ain’t right and it won’t get you anywheres. We

got our work to do.”

 

Lieutenant Dundy jumped up, stood close to Spade, and thrust his square face up

at the taller man’s.

 

“I’ve warned you your foot was going to slip one of these days,” he said.

 

Spade made a depreciative mouth, raising his eyebrows. “Everybody’s foot slips