“When it comes to cast-iron, dyed in the wool _nerve_?” he choked, “you’re sure a winner, Bill—Bolton! I took a fancy to yer when I first laid eyes on yer and I’m sorry for yer now. If I wasn’t,” he shot out venomously, “I’d certainly put a bullet in yer carcass. The joke has been on me, all right—now it’s on you. If you bumped Diego off, the boss’ll put yer on the spot. Them’s rules. What did yer do with him?“