"'Am at the St Charles, meet me nine a. m. to-morrow,' it says.
"This Harms duck is named right, 'cause that's what he does to every guy he meets. He's so crooked he can sleep on a corkscrew. When there ain't nobody else around he'll take money out of one pocket 'n' put it in another. He's been ruled off twict 'n' there's no chance fur him to get back. I wouldn't stand fur him only I'm in so bad I has to do somethin'.
"'If he takes any coin from me he'll have to be Hermann,' I says to myself, 'n' I shows up at the hotel the next mawnin'.
"Harms is settin' in the lobby readin' the dope-sheet. I pipes him off 'n' he don't look good to me fur a minute, but I goes over 'n' shakes his mitt.
"'Well, Blister, old scout, how're they breakin'?' he says.
"'So, so,' I says.
"'That right?' he says. 'I hears different. Fishhead Peters tells me they've got you on the ropes.'
"'What th' hell does that gassy Fishhead know about me?' I says.
"'Cut out the stallin',' he says. 'It don't go between friends. Would you like to git a-holt of a new roll?'
"'I don't mind tellin' you that sooner 'n have my clothes tore I lets somebody crowd a bundle of kale on to me,' I says.