“Made eleven cents and blowed in three. Say,” he added, in an undertone, though loud enough to be heard by Deacon Cornhill, “got a big duck? Looks awful green.”
“Hush!” warned Rob, adding in a louder key: “I’ve got to see the gent here gets to Bradford’s O. K. Then I’ll hev you go home with me.”
“What’s your name, bub?” asked the deacon, who felt it a duty to say something.
“Chick.”
“I mean the name your parents gave you.”
“Golly; what an idee. Never had any, mister.”
“Where do you live?”
“Nowhere.”
“Onpossible. Where’d you stop last night?”
“Corner A and Tenth Street.”