He nods, solemn-like, and spits at uh lizard again.
“Maybe. That Eastern hooch is awful stuff, Ike. I don’t remember no pet store. I must uh bought it the night I left Chicago for St. Louis. I wakes up in the morning and went to uh ticket office.”
“Give me uh ticket to St. Louis,” says I to the clerk.
“He looks queer like at me, and calls in uh policeman, and Ike, I had uh —— of uh time convincing that officer that I wasn’t crazy. He explained to me that I’m already in St. Louis.”
“Them policemen must be uh nearsighted bunch,” says I. “You’d have uh nice time trying to prove that to an officer west uh Dakota.”
“Don’t chide me, Ike,” says he. “I was uh stranger in uh strange land, and they took me in. Anyway I got uh green and red shirt, uh civilized hat and uh necktie pin to show for my trip.”
“Don’t forget Cassie,” says I. “Didn’t you talk mines uh-tall?”
“Uh-huh. There was uh fat bartender in Chicago who sympathized with me uh heap. Said he wished I’d uh showed up sooner with my proposition, cause he’d sunk all his money in uh new diving apparatus. He sure was uh good old scout, Ike. Doggone, that feller could fix up uh drink uh hooch until she tastes almost temperance, but she sure was uh sheep in wolf’s clothes. I rode all the way from Chicago to St. Louis on three of ’em and didn’t know it.”
“The big question before the house is this, Magpie: is this here purchase uh yours uh singer, uh beast, uh burden or uh nuisance?”
“Must be uh useful utensil, Ike, or I’d never bought it. I may get red-eyed from wobble water but I never loses my sense uh useful and ornamental things. I’m what you’d call uh discerning person—drunk or sober.”