“Revun,” Dinner asked, as he rose, “is you ever read up on dat Bible text whut says ‘I wus a stranger an’ I got took in’?”
“Suttinly,” Hitch prevaricated.
“My last advices to you is to keep a eye on de people in dis here Sawtown. Dey takes a stranger in good an’ plenty!”
Dinner dusted off his patent-leather shoes, adjusted his immaculate cuffs, felt of his green tie and his yellow diamond, lifted his Panama hat out of the rack, and brushed the cigar ashes off his gold and purple vest.
“Drap in de Hot-dog Club an’ gimme a look-on, Revun!” Gaze invited as he stepped into the aisle. “I handles a pretty peart gamblin’ game ef I do say it myse’f!”
The train stopped.
Dinner Gaze waited in the aisle, courteously permitting Hitch Diamond to precede him.
As Hitch passed out, Dinner Gaze cautiously elevated the tail of the pugilist’s Prince Albert coat, carefully thrust two scissors-like fingers into Hitch’s hip-pocket and drew out a small roll of money. In its place he thrust a wad of newspaper of about the same size. When the train had gone on, Hitch looked for his friend and could not find him.
“Dar now!” he exclaimed. “Dat wus a fine nigger man an’ I done loss him complete, an’ I even fergot to ax him whut wus his name!”