"Sure—if you can deliver the goods! Order the drinks, won't you?"
"Say, you got a tocter's brescription for liquor?" queried Ikey, when old Blenksoe did as he was bidden.
"I'll sure hev an undertaker's stiff-ticket ef I don't get it," replied Blenksoe, as he carried the medicinal doses over to the bench where the Dandy had ensconced himself.
"Best stay out here where no one can hear us," explained the latter.
"That suits me all right," agreed Blenksoe, lighting a pipe and settling himself on the Canadian side. "Thar's a warrant out fer my arrest in 'Lasky."
"I thought you were persona non grata in the Dominion also, since that hold-up of the stage near Lost Shoe Creek."
"Thet hold-up you put me up to, while you sneaked in the bushes. You'd orter be pinched yerself fer takin' a rake-off. Ain't the receiver as bad as the thief?"
"Piano, pianissimo," advised Raish. "One never knows who's within earshot." He glanced about him fearfully.
"Thet's so," admitted Blenksoe. "I declar, what between Kennedy on the one hand and Uncle Sam on t'other, and both a-gittin' so all-fired pertikeler, every day makes it harder for a crook ter make an honest livin'." He lighted an ill-smelling pipe. "Well, Dandy, fire away."
"Have you seen Durant lately?"