Get that dancin' perfessor off the place quick or I'll kill him." The manager recoiled; his startled eyes searched Briskow's face incredulously.

"I--beg pardon ?" "I 'ain't heard my kid's side of the story yet, but I'm goin' to see her now, so you better get word to that jumpin' jack in a hurry.

That is, if you want to save him." "He is discharged, of course, for we tolerate no rudeness on the part of our employees--or our guests, for that matter; but I believe he is suffering some effects from the shock.

I couldn't well ask him to go before--" "It'll take me prob'ly twenty minutes, talkin' to my girl.

That'll give him time, if he moves fast.