"You certainly wouldn't 'beef,'" I said tentatively. "Many a man fixed like you were would have let his clapper loose all right. And the newspapers did you proud. 'Twas a fine front you put up, and the gang ought to be proud of you." "Proud nothing!" said the reformed crook, impatiently. "And seems to me, Cig., that you've caught the patter of those nutty newspaper guys who is always stinging the dear public about guys who never go back on pals, because they're built that way and all the rest of such guff." He stopped disgustedly. "Here's the straight of it. Up to the time that we frisked a joint in Chi that happened to be owned by the brother of a cop, we--the four of us--was doing well and had a lot of fall money [large reserve sum for use in case of emergencies]. Well, the gang agreed that if one of us was copped out, the others would look out for his piece of fall money, and, what was more, while he was put away, he should get a share of one-eighth of all touches, which same could be sent to his wife or kids, as the case might be. That was good enough, wasn't it?" I nodded and Bandy went on. "That was the reason why I didn't turn mouthpiece. Another was," he smiled grimly, "that it was quite clearly understood that any one of us who opened his mouth to the police _once_, wouldn't do so _twice_. Sandy Hope, I mind me, was fond of announcing this fact in a kind of casual way. Not that we mistrusted each other, but it was well for everybody to know that the man who tried any stalling off would have his light put out just as soon as it could be arranged." "But," I said, "supposing that the crowd didn't keep its word--got away with the fall-money and the percentage on the touches while you were in jail?" "In that case," answered Bandy, without a moment's hesitation, "all bets would be off. The gentleman in custody would make a cry that would be heard in every detective bureau in America. There would be an immediate decrease in the population of crooks. Why, I know enough about Sandy to get his neck----" he stopped suddenly. "And was this, too, understood by the gang?" Bandy shifted uneasily on his seat. "You make me weary--honest you do, Cig. What's the matter with you? You know just as well as I do that every gang of crooks knows just what I've been telling you. If it weren't true, _what's to keep them from squealing every time they get arrested_?"