"Yeah. Get 'em every once in a while, in streaks, in series like. One at the same time every day for about two weeks. They get worse each day for the first week and taper off during the second. I'm over the hump this time; this is about the tenth day."
"Can't a doctor do anything for them?"
"Naw, I been to a dozen of 'em. The pills they give me don't help any more than plain aspirin. And it ain't bad enough for an operation; I get a streak of headaches only about once a year and I'd rather stand 'em than have a—what do they call it?—sinusotomy. What are you doing about that money, Ray-boy?"
"Trying to raise it, Joe," Ray said. And then, to give himself some leeway: "Might take a few days or even a week, but I'll get it."
"What if you can't?"
"Hell, I can—somehow. I've always paid you before, haven't I?"
"Yeah. But what if you can't scare it up this time, in one chunk? I know how much you make—about how much anyway—and that's quite a piece of cash for you. Close to a month's income. I shouldn't of let it get that big but I wasn't keeping track and didn't realize how far into me you were till Bill called my attention to it yesterday."
"Sure, Joe, it's quite a piece of cash. But don't worry; I'll get it. And this damn losing streak can't last forever."
"Maybe not, but one can last a hell of a lot longer than yours has. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I think you'd better lay off any kind of gambling till you're back even again—and that'll give your luck time to turn maybe. I don't run an installment business but I'm willing, in your case, to let you pay it off by the week. Say fifty a week; that'd take you a little less than ten weeks."
Ray winced. "My God, Joe! I can't pay fifty a week—I wouldn't have enough left to live on. How about twenty-five—if I can't raise the whole thing, that is."