“That’s all right with me—if he’d take Sailor, too.”
“Mebby we can fix it.”
“You take the job, if yuh can git it, Whisperin’,” advised Sailor. “I’ll git along. Pers’nally, I don’t know if I’d work for Baggs.”
“You’d work for me, wouldn’t yuh, Sailor?” asked Hashknife.
“Yo’re dang well right!”
“Well, yuh may be back here sooner than yuh think.”
“Thank yuh kindly, Hartley. I hope yo’re right. This is home to me and Whisperin’.”
“There’s no place like home,” said Hashknife thoughtfully.
“You re’lise it—when yo’re run out of it,” said Whispering, and turned away, wiping the hot-cake smoke out of his eyes.
“That damn smoke is kinda—kinda thick,” said Sailor, and sauntered outside.