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"Believe me, Whitey has that kind of a mind," says I, "or else he wouldn't be handling the Alf. Shuman publicity work." "But where could he have taken him?" asks Mr. Robert. "We're just gettin' to that," says I. "Where would he? Now if this was a movie play we was dopin' out it would be simple. He'd be taken off on a yacht. But Whitey couldn't get the use of a yacht.
If you let go wal, you'll get a full-sized peek into a pretty fancy sort o' hell wher' ther' ain't any sort o' chance o' dopin' your visions out o' sight with Ju Penrose's belly wash. So long." Ju picked up his lantern and turned back into his bar, closing and securing his door behind him. Then, with keen anticipation and enjoyment, he approached his till and proceeded to count his day's takings.
Curiously enough, too, his careless method of expression in no way disguised the natural refinement of his voice. Buck shook his head, and his eyes were cold. "Don't guess there's need of charity among friends, Beasley." Beasley Melford laughed. It was not a pleasant laugh. "Guess it makes him feel good dopin' out stuff to us same as if we was bums," he said harshly.
Robert may unload when he makes the great discovery. But, say, when you try dopin' out such a complicated party as Mr. Bob Ellins you've tackled some deep proposition. Nothin' emotional about him, and although I'm sittin' only a dozen feet off, half facin' his way too, I don't get even the hint of a smothered gasp.
Maybe because I wanted to show that a bad guy could do somethin' for his country. Dope it out for yourself. That used to be your game dopin' things out wasn't it?" "I'm trying to, now. Tell me, does anybody know anybody in the Army, I mean know who you are?" "Nobody but you; and you might call it an accident, the way you come to find out." "Something like that.
'Jim won't bet a dollar on him unless he's got the hop in him. "'Ah shall write to him, says ole man Sanford, 'n' beats it down the track toward the gates. "I don't see him fur over a week. I figger he's sore at me fur dopin' hosses. It's a funny thing but, I'm a son-of-a-gun if I don't miss the ole duck. From the way they talk I see the boys kind-a miss him, too.
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