“Yes, me.”
“Didn’t they make you wash?”
“Yes, but this don’t wash.”
“What is it?”
“Fertilizer.”
“Fertilizer! The deuce! What are you?”
“I work in the stockyards—at least I did until the other day. It’s in my clothes.”
“That’s a new one on me,” said the newcomer. “I thought I’d been up against ‘em all. What are you in for?”
“I hit my boss.”
“Oh—that’s it. What did he do?”