Red Harvest - Chapter 9

Chapter IX: A Black Knife

I woke next morning with an idea in my skull. Personville had only some forty thousand inhabitants. It shouldn’t be hard to spread news. Ten o’clock found me out spreading it.

I did my spreading in pool rooms, cigar stores, speakeasies, soft drink joints, and on street corners⁠—wherever I found a man or two loafing. My spreading technique was something like this:

“Got a match?⁠ ⁠… Thanks.⁠ ⁠… Going to the fights tonight?⁠ ⁠… I hear Ike Bush takes a dive in the sixth.⁠ ⁠… It ought to be straight: I got it from Whisper.⁠ ⁠… Yeah, they all are.”