"Wait until I commence. I'll show you a thing or two."
"Oh, I have a 'hunch' you'll 'clean up,'" said Wyeth with feigned admiration.
"You sold a book to somebody I know on Fourteenth Street....," he smiled.
"I thought you said I sold to many you know. I think I did," said Wyeth innocently.
"I know this one a little better than the rest," he admitted, now showing his teeth, despite his effort to keep his upper lip stiff.
"Oh—ho, I see now," laughed Wyeth, good naturedly. After a pause he said:
"Who is she? Come, 'fess up. At what number does she work?" But at this Slim only laughed, and left his friend curious.
That afternoon, at two o'clock sharp, they sallied forth. Going to Dalton street, they entered a cafe conducted by some people in the last stage of hook-worm hustle.
"What'll you genamens have?" asked the waitress, who looked so tired and sleepy.
Sidney scanned the greasy bill-of-fare, while Slim inquired: "What have you?" As she drawled out the list, Sidney's ears came attentive to the orders being given by others.