While the Lieutenant hesitated Tom said: “Yes.”

 

Then the Lieutenant said angrily: “And you might just as well know it—if you

don’t—that he died before he could tell anybody anything.”

 

Spade was rolling a cigarette. He asked, not looking up: “What do you mean by

that? You think I did know it?”

 

“I meant what I said,” Dundy replied bluntly.

 

Spade looked up at him and smiled, holding the finished cigarette in one hand,

his lighter in the other.

 

“You’re not ready to pinch me yet, are you, Dundy?” he asked.

 

Dundy looked with hard green eyes at Spade and did not answer him.

 

“Then,” said Spade, “there’s no particular reason why I should give a damn what

you think, is there, Dundy?”

 

Tom said: “Aw, be reasonable, Sam.”

 

Spade put the cigarette in his mouth, set fire to it, and laughed smoke out.

 

“I’ll be reasonable, Tom,” he promised. “How did I kill this Thursby?