"Say, who do you think they've stuck us with?"
"Who?"
"Beekstein."
"Suffering Moses!"
"Never mind. We've got the Dink."
"What's he do?"
"He's the champion truckman—carry your trunk for you anywhere you want."
Dink, thus brought unwillingly into the conversation, blushed a warm red.
"Truckman?" said P. Lentz, mystified.
"Champion," said Finnegan. "The mysterious champion truckman of Broad Street Station, Philadelphia. Stand up, Dink, my man, and twitch your muscles."