himself and Spingola had come at last and that it was a life-and-death fight was obvious.
"Al!" gasped Vyvyan. "Don't do—" Her voice trailed off.
Tony and Spingola were staring straight into each other's eyes. The younger man looked nervous; it isn't easy to kill your first man.
"So you couldn't take a warning, eh, you two punks; you thought you could get away with giving me the run-around."
"Who are you?" asked Tony, knowing that to be the most disconcerting thing he could say.
"Who'm I?" spluttered Spingola. "I'll show you—"
And at that instant Tony fired through his coat pocket. He had been reaching for his napkin when Spingola came in. Immeditely but without perceptible movement, his hand had shifted to his gun. He had had the drop on Spingola the whole time and had merely created a little diversion to make absolutely sure of winning his first gun battle.
Spingola looked surprised, then sagged to the floor. With a handkerchief Tony quickly rubbed his gun free of fingerprints, then threw the weapon out the window into the alley below.
