"Yes," said Jimmy.

"Here it is," said the visitor, laying the other's watch upon the table.

"Why this spasm of virtue?" asked Jimmy.

"Oh, I don't know," replied the other. "I guess it's because you're a

white guy. O'Donnell has been trying to get something on me for the last

year. He's got it in for me--I wouldn't cough every time the big stiff

seen me."

"Sit down," said Jimmy.

"Naw," said the other; "I gotta be goin'."

"Come," insisted the host; "sit down for a few minutes at least. I was

just wishing that I had someone to talk to."

The other sank noiselessly into a chair. "All right, bo," he said.

Jimmy proffered him his cigar-case.

"No, thanks," declined the visitor. "I'd rather have a coffin-nail,"

which Jimmy forthwith furnished.

"I should think," said Jimmy, "that your particular line of endeavor

would prove rather hazardous in a place where you are known by the

police."

The other smiled and, as before, with his lips alone.

"Naw," he said; "this is the safest place to work. If ten per cent of

the bulls know me I got that much on them, and then some, because any

boob can spot any one o' de harness bunch, and I know nearly every fly

on the department. They're the guys yuh gotta know, and usually I know

something besides their names, too," and again his lips smiled.

"How much of your time do you have to put in at your occupation to make

a living?" asked Jimmy.

"Sometimes I put in six or eight hours a day," replied the visitor. "De

rush hours on de surface line are usually good for two or t'ree hours a

day, but I been layin' off dat stuff lately and goin' in fer de t'ater

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