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Two-and-Two Baines, still looking perplexed, spoke in a hoarse voice that sounded like sorrow. "What I wanna know is just how far this fifty buck price gets us. Guess we have enough dough left in the treasury to buy us each an Archer Five, huh, Paul?" Paul Hendricks rubbed his bald head and grinned in a way that attempted to prove him a disinterested sideliner. "Ask Frank," he said.
"What's your name?" he demanded, thickly. "Ginger," she replied. He took a sharper look. A pale, somewhat freckled face, topped by a glory of fading red hair, thrust itself rather wistfully forward for his inspection. "Go 'way!" he waved, disconsolately. "Go 'way. I don't wanna dance!" She smiled with the passive resistance of her kind. "Neither do I," she assented. "Let's just sit here and talk."
Inside it was like a corridor and in this mire spray painted in Spanish graffiti he ascended and descended on pavement wreaking of the effluvium of evaporating urine. Then at a rotating gate Guillermo returned to Mexico. "Downtown for three dollars. Hey amigo, wanna go downtown?" he heard Mexican taxi drivers accost Caucasian Americans. He saw city buses in the distance.
"'The Home of the Muskrat," Louis called. Mike wrote it down. "Wanna look at it, Mike?" "Yeah, let's see." Time out for critical inspection. "Say, this guy never saw a muskrat house. That ain't the way." "'Isle of Dreams," called Louis. "Hm! You can't tell which is right side up. I guess it goes like this." "No. The other," said Mike. "Try it on its side. There, I told you so.
I couldn't set by an' let you be plugged, could I? Hardly." "But " "'Tsall right, 'tsall right. Don't you worry any about me. I got a ace in the hole if the weather gets wet. But I wanna tell you this: If yo're bound to go on playin' the fool, keep a-movin' and walk round a lighted window like it's a swamp." She dodged past him and was gone. He made no move to follow.
"Sounds like the owner of the Starlight," hazarded Swing Tunstall. "It is the owner of the Starlight," corroborated the voice, "and I wanna sleep, and I wanna sleep now." "We ain't got any objections," Racey told him. "She's a fine, free country. And every gent is entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, three things no home should be without."
She drew it out a slightly runty one with a forced blush and bit small white teeth immediately into it. "M-m-m!" sitting on the chaise-longue and sucking inward. He sat down beside her, a shade graver. "Is my babe disappointed I didn't dig her coat and earrings out of hock?" She lay against him. "I should worry!" "There just ain't no squeal in my girl." "Wanna bite?"
"Why don't you wanna appear in this business?" persisted the stranger, pivoting on one heel in order to keep face to face with Lanpher. "I gotta live here," was the Lanpher reply. "Well, ain't I gotta live here, too, and I don't see anything round here to worry me. S'pose old Chin Whisker does go on the prod. What can he do?"
It came, and like many decisions, its form was totally unexpected. Jack Harpe looked at Racey and said smilelessly: "Wanna view the remains?" "You don't understand it, do you, Peaches?" Racey inquired genially of Peaches Austin when he found himself neighbours with that slippery gentleman at the inquest. Peaches shied away from Racey on general principles. He feared a catch.
After disarming their captive and tying his hands at his back they jerked him to his feet and examined him. "Who are you?" asked Grayson. "What you doin' sneakin' 'round spyin' on me, eh?" "If you wanna know who I am, bo," replied Billy, "go ask de Harlem Hurricane, an' as fer spyin' on youse, I wasn't; but from de looks I guess youse need spyin, yuh tinhorn."
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