Put that in your pipe, Brad, and
smoke it."
Braddock gulped painfully. "See here, Dick, don't be a fool. We can
clean up a--"
"You'd take the pennies off a dead nigger's eyes," interrupted the
pickpocket scathingly.
"I'd do anything to keep the show from busting," said the other with
the air of a martyr. "Anything to save my wife's little fortune, and
anything to keep my performers from going broke."
"I suppose your wife thinks it's all right to get this kid's money
away from him," said Dick sarcastically.
"She--why, of course, she wouldn't know anything about it. She's so
blamed finicky."
"Of course!" scoffed Dick.
"But she'd stand for it, if she ever did find it out. She needs the
money just as much as I do, only she likes to appear sanctimo--"
"I hate a liar, Brad," said Dick coolly.
Braddock arose unsteadily. "You mean ME?"
"I do," said the thief to the liar. "You know you lie when you say
she'd back you up in a game like that."
"I've a notion to smash you one."
"Here's your watch, Brad, and your pocketbook. I nipped 'em just now
to see if I'm in practice. Oh, yes, and your revolver, too.
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