"Very well," I chimes in, being tired of Jimmie ribbing this here guy about a horse, "we will take it in place of the powder box."
With that this guy freezes over like the outside of a mint julep and he says chillylike, "I have just remembered that this vase has been put aside for another party."
And I says, "That is very odd being as how you were so all fired set on us having it at reduced cost."
"Herman," this guys says.
And another guy with a neck like a Percheron, shoulders his way through a curtain in the back and stands there like as if he is itching for somebody to say "When." So we takes our package and we leaves.
I am in favor of hunting up a crap game and shooting our twenty-nine cents and Jimmie says that is a splendid idea and for me to do so and he will meet me at the pool parlor in a hour. I asks where is he going? And he says the library. And as he has never been inside a library in his life to my certain knowledge, I figure he is telling me in a nice way to mind my own business. Which I does. And in a hour I has run the twenty-nine cents into eight bits and a Masonic emblem.
I meets Jimmie like he said and I can see right away he is exceptional thoughtful. We go to a place called La Cucuracha where the second cup of coffee is free and you gets gravy with your potatoes, although Jimmie seems to have lost his appetite. He keeps transferring his food from one side of his plate to the other until I outs and asks him pointblank what is ailing him.
"Did you ever hear tell of a horse called Pegasus?" he says by way of answer.
"No," I says. "Who sired him?"