They had gin for G, a horse’s neck for H, and an eye-opener for I. “Now a Jazzbo,” Cuff said with satisfaction. “This is the only bar hi town that has a drink beginning with J. After that I have to start skipping. I dunno any K drinks.”
“Kirchwasser,” Gallegher said absently.
“K—huh? What’s that?” Cuff bellowed at the bartender. “Tun! You g‹n any kirchwasser?”
“Nope,” said the man. “We don’t carry it, Alderman.”
“Then we’ll find somebody who does. You’re a smart guy, pal. Come along with me. I need you.”
Gallegher went obediently. Since Cuff didn’t want to talk about Fatty, it behooved him to win the alderman’s confidence. And the best way to do that was to drink with him. Unfortunately $n alphabetical pub-crawl, with its fantastic mixtures, proved none too easy. Gallegher already had a hangover. And Cuff’s thirst was insatiable.
“L? What’s L?”
“Lachrymae Christi. Or Liebfraumilch.”
“Oh, boy!”
It was a relief to get back to a Martini. After the Orange Blossom Gallegher began to feel dizzy. For R he suggested root beer, but Cuff would have none of that.