“Phil Archer been in with any more hot tips?” “Aw, hell! Dundy didn’t think you shot Miles, but what else could he do except run the lead down? You’d’vd done the same thing in his place, and you know it.” “Yes?” Malice glittered in Spade’s eyes. “What made him think I didn’t do it? What makes you think I didn’t? Or don’t you?” Polhaus’s ruddy face flushed again. He said: “Thursby shot Miles.” “You think he did.” “He did. That Webley was his, and the slug in Miles came out of it.” “Sure?” Spade demanded. “Dead sure,”
