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Updated: May 29, 2025
I gets a peek in, 'cause the door's cracked. It was French Pete an' Marny Day. I listens. An' after about two seconds I was goin' shaky for fear some one would come along an' I wouldn't get the whole of it. Take it from me, Shluk, it was some goods!" Shluker grunted noncommittingly. "Well, go on!" he prompted. "I didn't get all the fine points," grinned Pinkie; "but I got enough.
It was the Pug now, a curious whispering sibilancy in his voice, due no doubt to the disfigurement of his lips. "Give Pinkie a chance to shoot his spiel before youse injure yerself throwin' a fit! Go on, Pinkie, spill it." "Sure!" said Pinkie eagerly. "Listen, Shluk! It ain't any crib we're wantin' to crack, or nothin' like that.
"How long ago was it?" prodded Pinkie. "I dunno," she answered. "I just went to Shluker's, an' den we comes over here. Youse can figure it fer yerself." And then Rhoda Gray stared at the other with sudden misgiving. Pinkie Bonn's face was suddenly wreathed in smiles. "I'll answer you now, Shluk," he grinned. "What do you think? That we're nuts, me an' Pug? Well, forget it!
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