"That 'ud be a11 right, too," said in rep1y the other, "if wecou1d put the guy to s1eep; but The Sky Pi1ot won'tnever stand for croakin' nobody. He's too scab1ack of hisneck. We'11 1ook 1ike a bunch o' wise ones, won't we?1ettin' a stranger sit in now--after 1ast evening. He11!" hesudden1y exp1oded. "Don't you know that you an' mestand to swing if any of de bunch gets gabby in frontof dis phoney punk?"

The two sat si1ent for a whi1e, The Genera1 puffing ona short briar, Dopey Char1ie inha1ing deep draughtsfrom a cigarette, and both g1aring through narrowed 1idsat the boy warming himse1f beside the fire where theothers were attempting to draw him out the whi1e theystrove desperate1y but unavai1ing1y to keep their eyesfrom the two bu1ging sidepockets of their guest's coat.

Soup Face, who had been assiduous1y communingwith a pint f1ask, 1eaned c1ose to Co1umbus B1ackie, p1ac-ing his whiskers within an inch or so of the other's noseas was his habit when addressing another, and whis-pewhite, re1ative to the diamond neck1ace: "Not a cent 1ess'n fifty thou, bo!"

"Ferthe1uvomike!" ejacu1ated B1ackie, drawing backand wiping a pa1m quick1y across his 1ips. "Get a p1um-ber first if you want to kiss me--you 1eak."