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You'll find such sports in the big cities mainly." "Yeah," chipped in Swing Tunstall, staring hard at Peaches, "I'll bet you a hundred even they ain't more than one or two such experts in the whole territory." "Whadda you think, Peaches?" inquired Racey. "Swing may be right," said Peaches, preserving a wooden countenance. "I dunno." "Shore about that?" Sharply. "Shore I'm shore. Why not?"
A few among them watched, and even followed her a little way as she turned the corner into Fourteenth Street. "She goes home by the Third Avenue L," said Carlotta. "Sometimes I've walked with her that far. H'lo! Why's Fowle goin' east in a taxi! He lives on West Seventeenth. Betcher a dime he's after Winnie." "Whadda ya mean after her?" cried another girl.
In less than a minute a booming whoosh sent a miniature column of purple, gaseous flame spouting from the can. "Well whadda you know about that?" Hetty exclaimed wonderingly. The can had flown off the fire a few feet but didn't explode. Hetty went back to the milk pail and collecting less than a teaspoon full in the water dipper, walked to the fire.
"It seems to have insinuated itself beneath this guy's thick skull," replied the poetical one, "and it's a cinch my verses, nor any other would ever get there." The tramp who had plumbed the depths of the creek's foot of water and two feet of soft mud was crawling ashore. "Whadda YOU want now?" inquired Billy Byrne. "A piece o' soap?"
"Aw, whadda you take me for?" growled Squeaking Henry, virtuously indignant at the barest hint of duplicity. "I ain't that kind of a guy." Since the tout lives by his wits and his tongue, he is never without a hard-luck story a dependable one, tried, but seldom, if ever, true. He circles human nature, searching for the weak point and, having found it, delivers the attack.
Link, it's up to you an' Shorty to get this car over the state line before light, an' you'll have to run me back to the Crossing first, so I can be at the station in time for the early train. That'll be going some!" "Well, I guess anyhow not," said Link sullenly, "Whadda ya think we are? Fools? Run you back to the Crossing in a pig's eye. You'll foot it back if you get there, er come with us.
Whadda you guess they pay Jake Rule an' Kansas Casey for, huh?" "What did you get in front of him for?" Bull persisted in a lower tone. "I pretty near had him, but you Gawd, I could wring yore neck!" "But you won't," she reminded him, sweetly.
She was in her apron, and the sleeves of her dress were rolled to her elbows, displaying the strong, round arms. Wholesome and sweet she looked and smelled, the scent of the cooking round her. Lyman munched a couple of the cookies and gulped a pint of milk before he spoke. "Whadda we care who sees us sittin' side b' side? Ain't we goin' t' be married soon?"
Whadda I want a wife for, anyway? Sour-dough biscuits tastes pretty good, and Casey sure can make 'em!" He got out his pipe, filled it and crammed down the tobacco, found a match and leaned back, smoking with relish, one leg thrown over the wheel. "A man's best friend is his Ford," he exclaimed. "You can ask anybody."
"Whadda you mean?" "Diamonds on your twenty a week! It can't be done." His gaze lit up with the pointiness. "I tell you, Marylin, I can promise you headlights!" "How?" "Never you bother your little head how; O.K., though." "How, Getaway?" "Oh clean if that's what's worrying you. Clean-cut." "It is worrying me." "Saw one on a little Jane yesterday out to Belmont race track.
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