"I am a barber by trade, but I got tired of the confinement, and so I thought I'd become a sport. I started out with a hundred dollars which it took me a year to save up, and I got rid of it in two weeks. Then I fell in with you."
"And with my thirty-five dollars."
"Yes."
"The best thing you can do is to go back to your business."
"I would if I could."
"Why can't you?"
"Because my razors are in hock."
It is the custom of journeymen barbers to supply their own razors and a pair of shears for hair-cutting.
"I suppose that means in pawn?"
"Yes."