“It isn’t going to hurt you.”
“I know it ain’t goin’ to hurt me, but it ain’t goin’ to do me no good.”
“Oh, well, if you don’t want to do it—”
“Now wait a minute, buddy. I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it. I just said I didn’t want to do it.”
“I wouldn’t want you to do something you didn’t want to.”
“Sure, buddy. If you want me to do it, I want to do it. When do you want me to go?”
“Right away.”
He adjusted his tie, hitched his coat up around his shoulders, and grinned at me with that snaggle-toothed grin of slap-happy, jovial friendship. “On my way, buddy. Lookin’ at that stiff ain’t goin’ to make my breakfast set no better, but I’m on my way. Where’ll you be when I get back?”
“I’ll be in here a little later.”
“Okey doke, ol’ pal, I’ll be seein’ you. Remember now, I ain’t kiddin’. I could make a fighter outa you. I tell you, you got what it takes.”