"But you spend most of your life in prison."
"Not by a long shot. A real good gun's always got his fall money planted,—I mean some ready coin in case of trouble,—and a smart lawyer will spring you most every time; beat the case, you know. I've never seen the fly-cop you couldn't fix if you got enough dough; and most judges, too. Of course, now and then, the best of us may fall; but it don't happen very often, and it's all in the game. This whole life is a game, Mr. Berkman, and every one's got his graft."
"Do you mean there are no honest men?" I ask, angrily.
"Pshaw! I'm just as honest as Rockefeller or Carnegie, only they got the law with them. And I work harder than they, I'll bet you on that. I've got to eat, haven't I? Of course," he adds, thoughtfully, "if I could be sure of my bread and butter, perhaps—"
The passing overseer smiles at the noted pickpocket, inquiring pleasantly:
"How're you doin', Al?"
"Tip-top, Mr. Cosson. Hope you are feeling good to-day."
"Never better, Al."
"A friend of mine often spoke to me about you, Mr. Cosson."