Glass took a deep breath.
"He doesn't mean to kill you--just cut you," said Speed. "I got
it," declared the other, fervently. Again he laid repressing
hands upon his bulging front and looked down at it tenderly.
"They've all got it in for my pad, haven't they?"
"I told you to keep away from that girl."
"Humph!" Glass spoke with soulful conviction. "Take it from me,
Bo, I'll walk around her as if she was a lake. Who'd ever think
that chorus-man was a killer?"
"Surely you don't care for her seriously?"
"Not now. I--I love my Cuban, but"--he quivered apprehensively--
"I'll bet that rummy packs a 'shiv' in every pocket."
From outside the bunk-house came the low, musical notes of a
quail, and Glass puckered his lips to answer, then grew pale.
"That's her," he declared, in a panic. "I've got a date with
her."
"Are you going to keep it?"
"Not for a nose-bag full of gold nuggets! Take a look, Wally, and
see what she's doing."
Speed did as directed. "She's waiting."
"Let her wait," breathed the trainer.
"Here comes Stover and Willie.
Pages:
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135