"Say!—George."
"Yes!"
"You won't say anything about this to the young lady that plays the pianner? Because, you see, I might fall down."
"I won't say a word, Jake."
"And—not to Rita, neither?" he asked plaintively, "because Rita's about the only gal cares two straws for me. She comes often when nobody knows about it. She brings cake and pie, and swell cooked meat sometimes. When I find anything on the table,—I know Rita's been. I've knowed Rita since she was a baby and I've always knowed her for a good gal."
"Well, Jake;—I will keep your secret as if I had never heard it. But don't allow that drunken chum of yours, Mike, to lead you astray."
"Guess nit! Mike's got to sign the pledge same's me," he laughed in his guttural way.
I stood at the door. "And you are not going to put that money of yours in the bank, Jake?"
He spat on the ground.
"To hell with banks," he grunted and turned inside.