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Updated: June 7, 2025
Eatin' soap makes anyone sick. Youse dames is easy. He's chuckin' a dummy." "'A dummy?" The dummy-chucker sat a bit straighter. "Sure, ma'am. That's his game. He t'rows phony fits. He eats a bit of soap and makes his mouth foam. Last week, he got pinched right near here " But the dummy-chucker heard no more. He rolled sidewise just as the cry: "Police!" burst from the woman's lips.
He summoned the face of the girl who was sitting in the dining-room before his mental vision. And then he turned abruptly to the check-girl. "I've changed my mind," he said. "My coat, please." He was lounging before the open fire when three-quarters of an hour later his host was admitted to the luxurious apartment. Savagely the young man pulled off his coat and approached the dummy-chucker.
"You see, she's a girl who's seen a great deal of the evil of drink. She has a horror of it. If she thought that Jones had broken his pledge to her, she'd throw him over." "'Throw him over? But he's dead!" said the dummy-chucker. "She doesn't know that," retorted his host. "Why don't you tell her?" "Because I want to marry her."
There is always some stray silver in the bead bag of a movie patron. Into the dummy-chucker's outstretched palm fell pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters. There was present to-day no big-hearted Westerner with silver dollars, but here was comparative wealth. Already the dummy-chucker saw himself again at Finisterre Joe's, this time to purchase no bottled courage but to buy decantered ease.
"Him so strong-looking, too!" "Ain't it the truth? These husky-looking men sometimes are the sickliest." The dummy-chucker stirred. He sat up feebly. With his sleeve, he wiped away the foam. Dazedly he spoke. "If I had a bite to eat " He looked upward at the first stout woman. Well and wisely had he chosen his scene. Movie tickets cost fractions of a dollar.
"She's going to the opera to-night with her parents. But, before she goes, she's going to dine with me at the Park Square. Suppose, while she's there, Jones should come in. Suppose that he should come in reeling, noisy, drunk! She'd marry me to-morrow." "I'll take your word for it," said the dummy-chucker. "Only, when she's learned that Jones had died two months ago in Brazil "
The soft shirt-bosom gave freely, comfortably as he breathed. Its plaited whiteness enthralled him. He turned anxiously to his host. "Will I do?" he asked. "Better than I'd hoped," said the other. "You look like a gentleman." The dummy-chucker laughed gaily. "I feel like one," he declared. "You understand what you are to do?" demanded the host.
The dummy-chucker walked to the big mirror that stands in the corner made by the corridor that parallels Fifty-ninth Street and the corridor that separates the tea-room from the dining-room. His clumsy fingers found difficulty with the tie. The fine-looking old gentleman, adjusting his own tie, stepped closer. "Beg pardon, sir. May I assist you?" The dummy-chucker smiled a grateful assent.
His host studied him carefully. "Well, with a shave, and a hair-cut, and a manicure, and the proper clothing, and the right setting well, if a person had only a quick glance that person might think you were Jones." The dummy-chucker carefully brushed the ashes from his cigar upon a tray. "I guess I'm pretty stupid to-night. I still don't see it." "You will," asserted his host.
"That policeman is fat, but he has speed." The dummy-chucker glanced over his shoulder. Looming high as the Woolworth Building, fear overcoming the dwarfing tendency of distance, came a policeman. The dummy-chucker leaped to the motor's running-board. He climbed into the vacant front seat. "Thanks, feller," he grunted. "A li'l speed, please." The young man chuckled.
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