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Boogies fell from the heights as he had feared he would. "Aw, chee!" he said sanely. "And s'pose me stepmother gets her lamps on me! Wouldn't she bean me? Sure she would!" "Bind her and gag her," said Jimmie promptly. "What's one weak woman?" "Yah! She's a hellion and you know it." "Listen!" said Jimmie sternly.
He recklessly bought tickets. So far, so good. A momentous start had been made. At this very interesting point in his discourse to me, however, Boogies began to miss explosions too frequently. From the disorderly jumble of his narrative to this moment I believe I have brought something like the truth; I have caused the widely scattered parts to cohere.
Nothing in all the world can be so foul to the touch as the dollar bill that circulates in New York, but these two were intrepidly fondled. "I ain't going back to change," said Jimmie Time. "Them other kids would cop it on me." "Have some cigarettes," urged Boogies, and royally bought them with gilded tips, in a beautiful casket.
He found them to be: One hatchet; one well-used boiled hambone; six greasy sugared crullers; four dill pickles; a bottle of catchup; two tomatoes all but obliterated in transit; two loaves of bread; a flatiron. Jimmie cast the last item from him. "Wh'd you bring that for?" he demanded. "I don't know," confessed Boogies. "I just put it in.
I left Boogies then, though he seemed not to know it. His needle worked swiftly on the red one he was making for the madam, and his aimless, random phrases seemed to flow as before; but I knew now where to apply for the details that had been too many for his slender gift of narrative. At four that afternoon Mrs.
Boogies gasped blankly at this. "Let's beat it!" "Chee!" said Boogies. He stared at this bolder spirit with startled admiration. "Me I'm going," declared Jimmie Time stoutly, and waited. Boogies wavered a tremulous moment. "I'm going with you," he managed at last. He blurted the words. They had to rush out to beat down his native caution with quick blows. "Listen!" said Jimmie Time impressively.
"I'll take a chance. You wait here. If I ain't back in one hour you'll know I been murdered." "Good, my man!" said Jimmie Time with the air of an outlaw chief. "Be off at once." Boogies was off. And Boogies was back in less than the hour with a delectable bulging meal sack. He was trembling but radiant.
And the scout smoked a cigarette and got sick by it, and cried something fierce; so they made a fire, and the princess didn't get sick when she smoked hers, but told them a couple of bully stories, like reading in a book, and ate every one of the greasy sugared crullers, because she was a genuine princess, and Boogies thought at this time that maybe the boundless West wasn't what it was cracked up to be; so, after they met the madam, the madam said, well, if they was wanting to go out West they might as well come along here; and they said all right as long as they was wanting to go out West anyway, why, they might as well come along with her as with anybody else.
"I had about enough of their helling," declared Jimmie, still glowing with a fine desperation. They sought the William Street Tunnel under the Brooklyn Bridge. It was cool and dark there. One might smoke and take his ease. And plan! They sprawled on the stone pavement and smoked largely. "Chee! If we could get out West and do all them fine things!" mused Boogies. "Let's!" said Jimmie Time. "Huh!"
The desperado had turned his back. He drew as he wheeled, and again I was given to understand that his aim had been faultless. "Good Little Sure Shot!" declaimed Boogies fulsomely. "Hold it in your hand oncet," directed Little Sure Shot. The intrepid assistant gallantly extended the half dollar at arm's length between thumb and finger and averted his statesman's face with practiced apprehension.
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