arm. “Because neither your expense account nor mine could take care of that situation. So, if you don’t mind, Topper, we’ll just walk around for a look-see and then breeze, eh?”
As they started to move, Topper bumped into the Turtle for the second time. The Turtle, looking apologetic, tried to fade back, but Larry spotted the maneuver.
“Hey, if it isn’t the Turtle! Now, don’t run, Turtle. Since when have you been admitted to the likes of this here pleasure dome?” He turned confidential. “Or is it strictly business, ha?” The Turtle looked as uncomfortable as a hung-up dog.
“So say something, Turtle. Listen, Jackie, this guy Turtle has a very interesting background.”
“Larry—uh, Mr. Metcalf, I mean—I don’t think—”
“Oh, shush yourself, Turtle. I wouldn’t wash your old socks right here in public. I’m just chatting, you know, trying to make everybody feel at ease. So tell me, how are pickin’s these days, Turtle?”
“I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Metcalf. What you mean by pickin’s, I mean.”
“Just talking, Turtle, just talking. So come here and meet Jackie. Jackie, the Turtle; Turtle, the Jackie. Ah, you know the Turtle, Topper?”
“No. How do.”
“Sure. And now, if you’ll—”
“Don’t go, Turtle.” Larry grabbed him by the arm. “Why don’t we chat a little longer? Like how’s business and so forth?”
“What is your business?” Topper wanted to know.
“Then you don’t know the Turtle!” Larry sounded full of happy surprise. “Well, now, the Turtle used to go by another name. And this is confidential, of course. Shut up, Turtle, I’m telling a story. He used to be a magician, Dippo the Short or something like that. How that guy could make things disappear!”
“Dippo? What kind of a crazy name is that?” Topper frowned.
“Yeah, Topper. Dippo the Short, wasn’t it, Turtle?”
“So help me, Mr. Metcalf, you promised to lay off’n me.”
“Never you mind, now, there’s no harm done.”
“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen,” Topper said, and he stepped past them in order to greet another party.
They let him pass, looking after him. Larry said, “Watch him, Jackie, watch what he does now. Hey, you too, Turtle. Don’t run off. Haven’t you got any pride in your work?” Larry held the Turtle by one sleeve.
“What’s he supposed to be doing?” Herron wanted to know. “I don’t see a thing.”
“You see it, don’t you, Turtle, ha? Look, he’s doing it now.”
Topper had stopped at the entrance to the main room, and he was patting himself, as if he were hunting for a cigarette. Then he slipped his hand inside his jacket, looked in, and straightened up again. That was all.
“You mean he’s looking for a smoke?” Herron said.
“Smoke! With your training, Jackie? I’m dumfounded.”
“Was he looking for his wallet?” Herron looked at the Turtle with a little more interest.
“As the Turtle will tell you, Jackie, yes. He was looking for his wallet.”
Herron started to grin. He looked down at the Turtle and said, “You little weasel, so you were—”
“Turtle, Jackie. Not weasel.”
“So you were trying to lift his wallet, right here in front of everybody?”
“Now listen, you guys, all you’re trying to do is get me in complications. If I told ya what’s what you wouldn’t believe it noways.”
“You mean you did lift it? But—”
“Jackie. He didn’t lift it. Didn’t you see Topper pat himself? He found it.”
“Well,” Herron said, “I guess you can’t always win, can you, Turtle?”
Larry noticed the look on the Turtle’s face.
“Now you hurt his feelings, Jackie. You hurt his feelings and cast aspersions and disparagement—get those words, Turtle—on his professional standing. Tell him, Turtle.”
“He won’t believe me.” The Turtle looked stony.
“So I’ll tell him.”
“Never mind, I’ll tell him,” said the Turtle. “I was returning the wallet, I was.”
“You dumfound me, Turtle,” Herron said.
“Well, if you don’t mind—”
“No, you don’t.” Larry grabbed for the arm again. “First you buy us a drink, ha?”
“No, I’d rather not. In fact—”
“Perhaps you’re broke, Turtle?”
“Larry! Are you disparaging my finances?”
“God forbid, Turtle. I wouldn’t do such a thing. So come along, one and all. The Turtle is going to quench us.”
“Naw, I don’t think your friend here—”
“Turtle,” said Larry, “let’s not try stalling men like me and Jackie. You owe us a drink, don’t you? Listen to me, Turtle, I’m now speaking with a significant voice: You owe us a drink, don’t you? Because you owe your success to us, don’t you?”
“What in hell you talking about, Mr. Met—ah, Larry?”
“Come on, Turtle. Don’t tell me you gave Topper back a full wallet?”
“All right, dumfound you, I’ll buy you guys a drink, and