“Dat’s goin’ some! Cheese, I didn’t make four bits wid de skeletons dis afternoon! But dey’re woiked to de’t’ anyway dese days.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Joshua.
“De skeletons? Say, ain’t youse never seen a guy woik de skeletons on de hicks? Dere’s two of ’em, youse savvy, and youse set on a street corner an’ make ’em dance on a black clot’ by pullin’ a black t’read. De hicks usta fall fer dem, but not so much lately. Dat’s me graft, Jack—one of ’em. I got sever’l good lines. But dat telescope racket looks good to me. Say, youse’re only a kid an’ youse need a jocker. Youse’re on de road, I know, ’cause I see youse take a sneak from a boxcar to-day and hide in de jungles. Now, lissen, kid—youse’re new on de road an’ don’t savvy wot’s wot. I do—I’m an ol’-timer meself. I c’n put youse wise, an’ youse’n’ me’ll make all kinds o’ jack wid dat telescope. Youse c’n run ’er an’ make de spiel, an’ I’ll mooch ’round and chase de hicks to youse. We’ll make it all over de country. Dat’s wot youse want, kid—youse wanta see de worl’, an’ I c’n show it to youse. Get me? Dey call me De Whimperer, an’ I’ll tell youse more about dat later. Wot d’youse say youse’n’me hook up togedder? Youse’ll be me road-kid, an’ I’ll perteck youse from a lotta dese no-good stiffs youse’ll be meetin’ in yer travels. An’ we’ll make a good livin’ wid no woik, an’ have a helluva time. What d’youse say, kid?”
CHAPTER XII
WHIMPERMETER
IN the vernacular of the road the John Yegg was trying to snare Joshua, and Joshua knew it. Still, he had little fear of the man. He was perhaps too inexperienced to fear anybody who did not threaten to thrust his head into a bathtub filled with water. He knew himself to be a novice at tramping over the country. Also he was lonesome, for he had had friends of a sort in the House of Refuge. He studied the man who termed himself The Whimperer, and wondered if, despite the fellow’s repulsiveness, it might not be well to consider his proposal. The tramp could help him over the rough places in his journey westward. It might even be possible that he would be an asset when it came to inducing people to look through the telescope at ten cents a look, for Joshua was not a forward young man and knew that he would find difficulty in selling his knowledge to the public. Then, could he not contrive to steal away and leave The Whimperer whenever the association became irksome? He did not like the man’s face. But, then, he had not liked the face of Beaver Clegg when first he saw it; and what a change that ugly man had wrought in his life! Joshua could read the stars, but he had not the experience in life to read the faces of his fellowmen. It was the fact that The Whimperer might help him to get out West, above everything else, that caused him to consider this strange offer of partnership.
For Joshua was determinedly bound for the West. Locked up for so long in the House of Refuge, he had met no girls at all, and the picture of Madge Mundy was still fresh in his memory. She was the last girl that he had met before his commitment, the girl who had aroused in him the first whisperings of the male’s desire for the society of the opposite sex. He still thought of Madge as he had seen her last, Oriental-topaz eyes aglow, bronze hair streaming down her youthful shoulders. And, boy though he yet was, he was seriously intent on seeking her, out there somewhere in the West. Perhaps the man called The Whimperer could help him find her.
Their orders were set before them, and the tramp talked as he ate greedily. He told of adventures on the road, covering a period of many years of vagabondage. His speech was quaint and in great part unintelligible to Joshua, but the boy listened despite secret warnings that came again and again.
“Dere’s a lotta t’ings a plug c’n folly if he’s wise,” observed The Whimperer. “Don’t worry—youse’n’ me’ll always get our scoffin’s. And if de telescope racket fails and de woist comes to de woist I c’n slip whimpermeter to de Ezras and get us lumps.”
“I don’t always understand you,” said Joshua. “What’s a lump?”
“A lump,” explained The Whimperer, inwardly gloating over the boy’s innocence, “is wot a kin’ lady slips youse w’en youse batter de back door. If she invites youse in and lets youse t’row yer feet unner de table, it’s a set-down. If she slips youse a lunch in a poiper bag, it’s a lump. See? Get me, Jack?”