The irrepressible Jubilee Hurst made no pretence of his reluctance, and he was airing his views with that simple freedom which he claimed as his right at all times.
“You know, boys,” he said, smashing a bunch of mosquitoes on the back of his bull-like neck, “Max is mostly a decent citizen for all he’s a Dago. But his craze for patent shoes and hair oil gets me all the time. You know, there’s no sort of reason in a guy acting the way he does behind a bow-tie fit for a Dago revolutionary, and wearing a sheath-knife on his hip fit to carve up whale blubber. Maybe, with an elegant souse in prospect he fancies us boys fixed the way he gets us because most of our party suits were invented before the possibilities of the hip-pocket were guessed about. I’d say the Speeedway’s no sort of joint to fall into without a whole darn arsenal of weapons lying around to your hand most all the time, and, I’ll sure be feeling like a lamb at slaughter time settin’ around disguised like a first-class waiter, while he belches up his annual hash of the pleasure it hands him having us suckers around, and how grieved he is the cemetery’s added to its stock of fancy mausoleums by way of advertising the amenities of his darn booth.”
He smiled amiably round upon the company, and took half a highball at a gulp. And his black, twinkling eyes finally settled on his partner’s long and grievously unsmiling face.
“It’s all right, boy,” he said, grinning genially. “You needn’t to feel the way you’re lookin’. I got two boiled shirts, and seein’ you’re a partner of mine, I’ll share ’em with you for haf a dollar.”
Burt raked at the calf of one hairy leg exposed about his sock suspender to the attacking mosquitoes.
“Oh, beat it,” he cried irritably. “You wouldn’t miss a thing the Speedway could hand you, if Max reckoned to have you around in your underpants. You make me tired.” He turned to the banker. “I got around the ‘Glory Hole’ this morning. It’s burnt out stark.”
The banker sipped his highball and gazed thoughtfully out at the far hills.
“I’m glad,” he said quietly, after a moment’s deliberation.
It was coldly said and Abe Cranfield looked round at the speaker quickly.