"Nothing stirring, Jerry!" I says firmly. "I've told you that before. I can't afford to be pegged bounding around with you while we're both working here. It would cause embarrassing talk in the hotel and"
"'At's all right, Cutey," butts in Jerry soothingly. "Don't you worry your pretty head about them embarrassin' me. If any of these monkeys sees us playin' around I'll say it wasn't you at all I was with, but some other crazy admirer of mine. By the way, I see this Mr. Thurston is givin' you quite a play."
I looked up in surprise because, honestly, that was the first time I had ever heard the hard-boiled Jeremiah call anybody "Mister" since I've been one of the show places of the St. Moe. Jerry would address President Coolidge as "Cal," no fooling!
"Thurston would give any woman a play, Jerry," I says contemptuously. "He's just like you—always looking for the best of it. The next time you see him parked at the board here you have my permission to chase him!"
"I think you're out of order there, Cutey," says Jerry seriously. "Mr. Thurston is a high-class fellah, what I mean, and the rumor around here is 'at he's a perfect gent. And if 'at ain't sufficient, he's one of the greatest detectives which ever solved a bafflin' mystery from one look at the murdered man's sleeve garters! Nobody's hep to what he's here for, because like all
