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Updated: May 6, 2025
Foller Casey and you'll find 'im tangled up with a mess uh hootch b'fore he gits ten miles from camp." "You could go out and highjack some one." Nolan agreed, taking him seriously which Casey had not intended. "I think we'll go down and load the camp outfit into my car, Ryan, and I'll start you out. Go up into your old stamping ground where people know you.
As you may know, a man can't be chickenhearted and peddle hootch an' I'm called an expert. So you think that over, Casey an' drive purty, see?" Casey drove as "purty" as was possible with a six-shooter pressed irritatingly against his lowest floating rib; but he did not dwell upon the spectacle of himself found dead with a carload of booze.
Casey, slanting a glance downward, glimpsed the barrel of a big automatic looking toward them. "What if I ain't got any?" the young man parried glumly. "You're taking a lot for granted." The big man chuckled. "If you ain't loaded with hootch, it's because one of the boys met up with yuh before I did. Open 'er up. Lemme see what you got."
So YOU had to come along, loaded to the guards with hootch stall your Ford on the car track right under m' nose, an' tell Casey Ryan to git in! Couldn't leave 'im to go home peaceful to 'is wife naw! You had t' haul 'im away out here an' git 'im in wrong with a cop agin! That's a fine game you're playin'! That's a DARNED fine game!" "Sure, it is!
"All the more reason," said Nolan, also sitting up with his hands clasped around his knees, "why it's important to catch them with the goods. You'll have to peddle hootch, Casey, until we get Smiling Lou and his outfit." "And where, Mr. Nolan, do I git the booze to peddle?" asked Casey practically. Nolan laughed to himself. "It can be bought," he said, "but I'd rather not.
I've seen so many go stone blind or die that it makes me pretty savage sometimes. So now I'll coach you in the part you're to play as hootch runner; and to-morrow you can start for Los Angeles." Casey did not answer. He felt absently for his pipe, filled and lighted it and went out to sit on the doorstep in gloomy meditation while he smoked.
Rarely was the choice of potations criticised, though occasionally some ruddy eschewer of sobriety insisted that his lady "take the same," avowing that "hootch," having been demonstrated beneficial in his case, was good for her also.
He came flying back, yelling, "Gangway!" and, scattering the crowd ahead of him, he offered brandy, whisky, creme de menthe, hootch, absinthe and bitters to Rouletta, all of which she declined. He was still arguing the medicinal value of these beverages when the swinging doors from the street burst open and in rushed the Mocha Kid, a pie in each hand.
Two evenings after, Fulton Bemis, the surly older man of the Bunch, took Babbitt aside and grunted, "Look here, it's none of my business, and God knows I always lap up my share of the hootch, but don't you think you better watch yourself? You're one of these enthusiastic chumps that always overdo things.
But why don't you come to my room? I've some Scotch not half bad." "Oh, I don't want to use up all your hootch. It's darn nice of you, but You probably want to hit the hay." Sir Gerald was transformed. He was beefily yearning. "Oh really, now; I haven't had a decent evening for so long! Having to go to all these dances. No chance to discuss business and that sort of thing.
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