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Once with soft words he could, as they say, twist her around his little finger. Why not again? Not for years had he tried it. Grim poverty and mutual hatred had killed all that. But Ragsy and Kidd were waiting for him to bring the dollar! Mr. Peters took a surreptitiously keen look at his wife. Her formless bulk overflowed the chair.
Peters was the D'Artagnan of the loafers there. He was the dingiest, the laziest, the sorriest brown blot against the green background of any bench in the park. But just then he was the most important of the trio. Mr. Peters had a wife. This had not heretofore affected his standing with Ragsy and Kidd. But to-day it invested him with a peculiar interest.
It's a 100 to 1 shot that I get the dollar. I wonder what she went out for. I guess she's gone to tell Mrs. Muldoon on the second floor, that we're reconciled. I'll remember this. Soft soap! And Ragsy was talking about slugging her!" Mrs. Peters came back with a bottle of sarsaparilla. "I'm glad I happened to have that dollar," she said. "You're all run down, honey." Mr.
"Weary Raggles: 'Say, Ragsy, w'y don't you ask 'em for something to eat in dat house. Is you afraid of de dog?" "Ragsy Reagan: 'No, I a-i-n-t 'fraid of the dog, but me pants is frayed of him." "Ha, ha, ha say, Anna, that's the funniest thing I ever did see. The tramp wasn't frayed of him, but his pants was 'fraid of him. Gee, ain't that a funny joke?
"Hello, there, Doc!" "How do you do, Mr. Klinker?" "Been up chinning your sporting editor, Ragsy Hurd. Trying to arrange a mill at the Mercury between Smithy of the Y.M.C.A. and Hank McGurk, the White Plains Cyclone." "A mill ?" "Scrap boxin' match, y' know. Done up your writings for the day?" "My newspaper writings yes." In the brilliant close quarters of the lift, Klinker was looking at Mr.
How to get possession of that dollar was the question up for discussion by the three musty musketeers. "How do you know it was a dollar?" asked Ragsy, the immensity of the sum inclining him to scepticism. "The coalman seen her have it," said Mr. Peters. "She went out and done some washing yesterday.
And look what she give me for breakfast the heel of a loaf and a cup of coffee, and her with a dollar!" "It's fierce," said Ragsy. "Say we go up and punch 'er and stick a towel in 'er mouth and cop the coin" suggested Kidd, viciously. "Y' ain't afraid of a woman, are you?" "She might holler and have us pinched," demurred Ragsy. "I don't believe in slugging no woman in a houseful of people."
"Gent'men," said Mr. Peters, severely, through his russet stubble, "remember that you are speaking of my wife. A man who would lift his hand to a lady except in the way of " "Maguire," said Ragsy, pointedly, "has got his bock beer sign out. If we had a dollar we could " "Hush up!" said Mr. Peters, licking his lips. "We got to get that case note somehow, boys. Ain't what's a man's wife's his?
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