be as pop’lar ’s Santy Claus, all right, with the whole outfit. Don’t you think so, Chief?”
Babbing waved aside the tobacco smoke and leaned forward. He was smiling. “Barney,” he said, “did you ever read Shakespeare?”
“No, sir,” Barney grinned.
“I thought you were trying to rewrite him. You ’re making comedy out of King Lear.”
“King Who?”
“Never mind. I see glimmerings of intelligence in you, at last. You ’re beginning to think like a detective.”
“Yes, sir,” Barney said modestly.
“Well, let us see, now,” Babbing reflected. “Your idea is that if Cooney’s daughters thought he still had money, they ’d be more considerate of him, eh? With a lively sense of favors to come.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And how long do you think they ’d be willing to wait cheerfully for those favors?”
“Well, gee—”
