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You can meet a friendly woman any time, but this one got hold you fust." I writhed to the words. "And that fellow Jim?" I asked. "He's jest a common roper. He alluz wins, to encourage suckers like you. 'Tisn't his money he plays with; he's on commish. Beginnin' to understand, ain't you?" "But the bent card?" I insisted. "That is the mystery. It was the queen. What became of the queen?" "Ho ho!"
An' I got it, I got all mine, d'ye hear me, an' I ain't goin' to risk it on no more fights. That's straight. Easy money's hardest in the end. From now on it's horsebuyin' on commish, an' you an' me on the road till we find that valley of the moon." Next morning, early, they drove out of Ukiah. Possum sat on the seat between them, his rosy mouth agape with excitement.
Think of it!" Thus she besought her cousin Fanny, a rather full-blown young woman employed in a "drapery-house" at Brixton. "And easy hours with an hour off for lunch! Isn't it lovely!" "You'll have the office 'commish' to pay," her cousin reminded her, "and I know all about those short hours! Sound well, but they generally want overtime out of you without paying for it either!" "Do they?"
I think they're gettin' wise up there around Forty-second Street and Sixth Avenue." "Well, how about that order we had from New Orleans? That hasn't been paid yet. You know it was placed through you. You got your commish out of it, and this establishment always wants cash. No money orders, either. Spot cash. We don't monkey with the United States mail.
"Cent a bag!" promptly returned Glory, selecting the best looking packet and holding it toward this possible customer. "All of them, I mean. I wish to pay you for all of them," explained the lady, opening her purse. Too surprised to speak for herself, Nick answered for the vender, "They was fifty bags, that's fifty cents, an' five fer commish. If it'd been a hunderd, 'twould ha' been a dime.
Well, listen, dere's a Christmas tree of dem presents comin' to you ef ye tries any more of dis stuff. I'm in right in dis district, don't fergit it. Ye tink's I'm going to de Island? Wipe dat off yer memory, too. W'y, say, I kin git yer buttons torn off and yer shield put in de scrap heap by de Commish if I says de woid down on Fourteenth Street, at de bailiwick."
If I ever get a commish' to sculpt an angel I shall use Janet MacGregor for my model, little Miss By-the-Day," she sighed drowsily, "your middle name must be Luck." "My middle name is Trenton," answered Felicia literally. "Dulcie, I am going to tell you something. Something you must remember.
These people understand the old hammer-and-tongs game." Just then the smaller outside door grated on its rusty hinges. We sprang to our feet, startled. Dillon leaped forward. Stupefying guns had no taming effect on his nationality. "Well, commish, is that the way you greet an old friend?" laughed McBirney, as a threatened strangle-hold was narrowly averted and turned into a handshake.
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