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Updated: May 2, 2025
He knows that dwellin' close to the ground, as I do, I pine for spiritual elevation," with a melting glance at the bottles behind the bar, doing much to explain the size of his first drink. "Like it, do ye?" questioned Bailey indicating the shelf. "Well, not exactly! Booze is like air I need it. It makes a new man out of me and usually ends by gettin' both me and the new one laid off."
Joe whistled a long, perplexed whistle, and racked his brains to little purpose. "I've got the price of the drinks," he said desperately. "Come on, an' mebbe we'll cook up something." Martin declined. "Water-wagon?" This time Martin nodded, and Joe lamented, "Wish I was." "But I somehow just can't," he said in extenuation. "After I've ben workin' like hell all week I just got to booze up.
For, look you, Andres, I've been a dirty beast about all that sort of thing, but I've been a jolly fellow too; people were always glad to be on board with me. And I've had strength for a booze, and a girl; and for hard work in bad weather. The life I've led it hasn't been bad; I'd live it all over again the same. But Soren what sort of a strayed weakling is he? He can't find his own way about!
As she arose, there shot through his mind something that he had read in the etiquette books, and he stood up awkwardly, worrying as to whether he was doing the right thing, and fearing that she might take it as a sign that he was about to go. "By the way, Mr. Eden," she called back, as she was leaving the room. "What is booze? You used it several times, you know." "Oh, booze," he laughed.
The horseman would have turned pale but for the whisky which had permanently incarnadined the bend of his nose. As it was, however, he looked far more dismayed than the facts might seem to warrant. "It's the booze I got 'em again fur sartain!" he quavered in plaintive helplessness, his terrified eyes fixed on the squirming bundle.
In New York they know me for what I'm worth, and I get lots of work and good advice mixed with curses." "We'll send for your trunk," said Patsy, leading the girl up the street. "No; it's in hock. But I won't need it. With no booze to buy I can invest my earnings in wearing apparel. What a picturesque place this is!
With his free hand he flipped back the lapel of his coat to display a badge of authority pinned on the breast of his waistcoat. "What's the main idea?" His tone was rough. "Who's the chief booze smuggler of this outfit? How'd that barrel yonder come to be traveling across country with a soused lion?" "You can search me!" lied Riley glibly.
"Well, it's somethin' yeh slip into a man's licker that puts him to sleep." "You mean drug? Dope!" The bartender's eyes narrowed and the corner of his mouth whitened where it gripped the cigar. Purdy nodded: "Yes. It don't hurt no one, only it puts 'em to sleep fer mebbe it's three er four hours. I'll get some from Doc an' yer goin' to slip a little into Tex Benton's booze.
"Not if you'll keep on stayin' away from the booze, kid," said Professor Cassidy, "an' let me handle you." "I gotcha Steve," said Billy; "go to it; but first, stake me to a feed. The front side of my stomach's wrapped around my back bone." FOR three months Billy met has-beens, and third- and fourth-rate fighters from New York and its environs.
I wondered what Hunky Magee thought about his own story; so I asked him if he had any theories about reincarnation and transmogrification and such mysteries as he had touched upon. "Nothing like that," said Hunky, positively. "What ailed High Jack was too much booze and education. They'll do an Indian up every time." "But what about Miss Blue Feather?" I persisted.
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