mouth set in a nasty snarl. For a moment it looked as though he was going to pull a gun, Tony hoped he would, for he himself was ready and that would settle his problem of what to do with Steve Libati. But the fellow had sense enough to regain his self control.
"You talk like you was the only big shot in this mob," he snarled, "What about me? Ain't I one of the leaders?"
"Yes," answered Tony quietly, "And I didn't ask you to do the job yourself. But I want you to handle it, to get the dope about where and when he can be put on a spot and then get him. You can work it your own way, have any of the boys you want to help you, but I want it done."
"And if I don't care to do it?" queried Steve impudently.
"You're through with this mob," retorted Tony coldly.
"After the orders Johnny left?"
"That don't cut any ice. There's nobody stays in this mob a minute that don't obey my orders. That goes for you as well as the truck drivers. And there's my authority!"
He whipped out his heavy, ugly automatic and slammed it down on the desk, Libati's glance riv-
