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"I've claimed all along that you boys belonged with these train robbers," Katz gritted as the handcuffs rattled down the slope. "And now we know it!" Cullen cut in. The two boys leaned against the north wall of the cavern and shook their sides with laughter. The fright of the two detectives was so absolute that it was pitiful. "You certainly are a bum pair of detectives!" Tommy said.
I've shipped a maid for the girls, and the cook this time is several degrees superior to the average maritime specimen, for there's nothing like a couple of days of bum cooking to upset tempers and I'm taking no chances.
He took a positive joy in winning his games and on the whole acted like a bum winner, making the most of his unusual good luck. I hold no grudge for that, however. But I feel that if we could have continued the play some other time I'd easily have finished him off." Now the sun was slowly recovering its place and the rain had become a light mist.
"You don't understand " he began. But the other cut him short with a storm of scathing anger. "No, I sure don't understand," he cried, "I don't. I sure don't. Guess I'm on'y jest a man. I ain't no sort o' bum angel, nor sanctimonious sky-bustin' hymn-smiter. I'm on'y a man. An' I kind o' thank them as is responsible that I ain't nuthin' else.
I'm goin' to commit suicide to-day, an' I agree to write the experience foh you, up to the last minute, if you-all will have me buried decently. I don't cayah to be shovelled into the Pottah's Field." Maxwell dropped the blue pencil and wheeled to look at him. Then his face hardened. "It's a pretty bad joke," he said, "or a bum sort of bid for charity.
"I mean," he said, "what I'm a-tellin' yer. I wanter be a good boy. My pa, he drinks. He drinks like " The word he used, in description, was not the sort of a word that should have issued from childish lips. "An' my big brother he ain't like Pa, but he's a bum, too! I don't wanter be like they are not if I kin help it! I wanter be th' sort of a guy King Arthur was, an' them knights of his'n.
You don't suppose these Big Guns will stand your bucking them and springing all this 'liberal' poppycock you been getting off lately, do you?" "Oh, rats, Henry T., you been reading bum fiction. There ain't any such a thing as these plots to keep folks from being liberal. This is a free country. A man can do anything he wants to." "Course th' ain't any plots. Who said they was?
Bowers strained his eyes to read the brand on the shoulder of the horse the man turned loose, but it told him nothing. While the stranger squatted on his heel, Bowers rubbed Mary's horns during an interval of unembarrassed silence. "Bum?" inquired the stranger, eying Mary with a look which could not be called admiring. "Yep." The garrulous Bowers had become suddenly reticent.
The three strangers regarded each other laughingly, evidently well pleased at the puzzled look showing on the faces of their friends. "Wait till we get to headquarters and get a square meal under belts," Jimmie promised, "and we'll tell you what this bum detective's looking for. It won't take long to do it, either." "You know, then, do you?" asked Tommy. "Of course, we know!"
'Now, young man, he says to me, 'you get the horse ready and I'll go to work on the rider. 'N' believe me, he does it. "His bum leg won't let him ride no more, but he puts Mr. Van on a good steady jumper, 'n' drives besides the course in a cart, tellin' him what to do. He keeps Mr.
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