Johnny Brown Gambling Ring

The American Broadcasting Company presents Pat Novak for hire. Sure I'm Pat Novak for hire. I got a couple of wolves down on Pier 19 on the San Francisco waterfront. Sometimes I read them out, but I found out it's easy to keep my budget healthy by risking my health in other ways.

So I work around doing our job. You can take that any way you like. Not the best you can save for it is at a beach begging, at least you don't always limp. If you're luxin' you can keep a half lap ahead of the bill like this if you don't let it go to your head.

I did once. I helped a guy who owned seven hotels convince a blonde in San Rafael that her memory wasn't that good after all. That payoff was too rich for my blood. I got the idea that with that kind of money I could take over the gambling joints up around Lake Tahoe.

I took him three days to show me I was wrong. I'd worked my way down from the gold plated joints to a place called a broken tea where they still recognized a dollar as currency.

I was beginning to figure how long it had taken me to walk back to the bay when the health came along. He was a little guy on a pair of eyes. I wouldn't trust of anything. I wanted again.

A kind of quiet dark clothes that would make it easy to get lost in an alley. He knew me. Well, no back. Not doing so hard, are ya? I eat. You want to make a quick buck?

That must be a reason. Tell me that first. I'm hot. I shift the wheels down for a flocadole. You call that trouble? Not yet. But I like to look ahead. How do I know these guys like it that I got all their money?