I feel so good that I don't even like it when Angel lets out a yell and comes up with a wad of loot. It's like I want to prime the U.S. Mint for chickenfeed, I don't want it to come so easy. But money's on hand, so I take it off Angel and count it. This cat was really loaded; there must be a thousand dollars here. I take a handful of it and hand it over to Angel real cool.
Now, kiss me, sweetheart, for I'm due at a directors' meeting in two shakes or thereabouts." Embury snapped the fastening of his second glove, and, hat in hand, held out his arms to his wife. She made one more appeal. "You're quite right, San, maybe I didn't need that C.O.D. thing. But I do want a little chickenfeed in my purse when I go out to-day. Maybe they'll take up a collection."