Mr. Scraggs poked my gift.
“Just like that. I put the whole bizzee in my trap and chomped on it like a lion. I walked around the town, chompin’ on it. I waved my jaws till my face ached. Seemed to me like I’d never done anythin’ in all my life but bite Injy-rubber. And then I pushed madly for the first stud-poker game.
“When I got there, nothin’ was movin’. This here tin-horn I mention was polishing his muss-tache with both hands, whilst he talked to a few hangers-on.
“I became ashamed of that choon’-gum and I stuck it under the table, very sly and surreptishus. I felt like a man again.
“‘Fire the engine up!’ says I. ‘Gimme five stacks to practise on.’
“The gam hopped gleeful toward the table and give the drawer a yank. She stuck. He cussed and pulled harder. She came open with a jerk and a kind of a long, sticky s-m-aaa-ack, followed the strings of gray.
“The gam arose from where he’d sot on his backbone and looked at the drawer.
“‘We’re not doin’ any business to-day,’ says he, showing me my little eagle-bird.
“‘What’s happened to the trade?’ says I.
“He simply p’inted to the hunk of gum (which I had most unforchinit jammed ag’in’ the drawer).