"Where do you live, Mottka?"
"Oh, on the West Side. On the West Side."
"And what did you do before you roasted chestnuts?"
"Me? Oh, I was in a business. Yes, in a business. And it failed. So I got the chestnut roaster. I got a license."
"It seems to me I've seen you before, Mottka."
"Yes, yes. A policeman bring me here before when I was on Wabash Avenue with my chestnuts."
"What did he bring you in for?"
"Oh, because he thinks I am a crook, because I don't have enough chestnuts to sell. He says I am a lookout for crooks and he brings me in."
Mottka laughed softly and shrugged his shoulders.
"I am no crook. Only I am too poor to buy more chestnuts."