"I'll take my chances with him and his gorillas," bluffed Tony, and laughed. "A gun's better'n a knife any time and I can shoot better'n any of 'em. So run along, sonny, and tell your whole damn' gang to chew that on their back teeth."
Tony laughed outright at the expression of amazement on the henchman's ugly face, then with a sneering smile watched the fellow move away. In his side coat pocket that revolver still rested comfortably and reassuringly. It was amazing how much courage that weapon put into him. It bridged the difference between a David and a Goliath—it always does to a born gangster. Also that afternoon he had arranged for a friend of his who was a good shot to trail him everywhere he went at night now, and be ready to shoot down from behind anybody who tried to get Tony in the same way.
Vyvyan was nervous and shivery when she arrived at the appointed corner in a taxi and climbed into the roadster beside him.
"I'm scared, Tony," she said and gripped his arm while she looked back over her shoulder. Then half-screamed. "Oh there's another car starting up after us."
"Don't worry; that's my body guard."
