Blister Jones | Page 8

can sleep on a corkscrew. When there ain't nobody else around he'll take money out of one pocket 'n' put it in another. He's been ruled off twict 'n' there's no chance fur him to get back. I wouldn't stand fur him only I'm in so bad I has to do somethin'.
"'If he takes any coin from me he'll have to be Hermann,' I says to myself, 'n' I shows up at the hotel the next mawnin'.
"Harms is settin' in the lobby readin' the dope-sheet. I pipes him off 'n' he don't look good to me fur a minute, but I goes over 'n' shakes his mitt.
"'Well, Blister, old scout, how're they breakin'?' he says.
"'So, so,' I says.
"'That right?' he says. 'I hears different. Fishhead Peters tells me they've got you on the ropes.'
"'What th' hell does that gassy Fishhead know about me?' I says.
"'Cut out the stallin',' he says. 'It don't go between friends. Would you like to git a-holt of a new roll?'
"'I don't mind tellin' you that sooner 'n have my clothes tore I lets somebody crowd a bundle of kale on to me,' I says.
"'That sounds better,' he says. 'Come on--we'll take a cab ride.'
"'Where we goin'?' I asks him, as we gets into a cab.
"'Goin' to look at a hoss,' he says.
"'What fur?' I says.
"'Wait till we git there 'n' I'll tell you,' he says.
"We rides fur about a hour 'n' pulls up at a barn out in the edge of town. We goes inside 'n' there's a big sorrel geldin', with a blaize face, in a box-stall.
"'Look him over,' says Harms. I gets one pike at the hoss--
"'Why! it's ole Friendless!' I says.
"'Look close,' he says. 'Wait till I get him outside.'
"I looks the hoss over careful when he's outside in the light, 'n' I don't know what to think. First I think it's Friendless 'n' then I think maybe it ain't.
"'If it ain't Friendless, it's his double!' I says at last. 'But I think Friendless has a white forefoot.'
"'Well, it ain't Friendless,' says Harms as he leads the hoss into the barn. 'And you're right about the white foot.'
"Now, Friendless is a bird that ain't started fur a year. Harms or some of his gang used to own him, 'n' believe me, he can ramble some if everythin' 's done to suit him. He's a funny hoss, 'n' has notions. If a jock'll set still 'n' not make a move on him, Friendless runs a grand race. But if a boy takes holt of him or hits him with the bat, ole Friendless says, 'Nothin' doin' to-day!' 'n' sulks all the way. He'd have made a great stake hoss only he's dead wise to how much weight he's packin'. He'll romp with anythin' up to a hundred 'n' ten, but not a pound over that can you slip him. Looks like he says to hisself, 'They must think I'm a movin' van,' 'n' he lays his ole ears back, 'n' dynamite won't make him finish better'n fourth. This little habit of his'n spoils him 'cause he's too good, 'n' the best he gets from a handicapper is a hundred 'n' eighteen--that kind of weight lets him out.
"Goin' back in the cab Harms tells me why he sends fur me. This dog he's just showed me 's named Alcyfras. He's been runnin' out on the coast 'n' he's a mutt--he can't beat a fat man. Harms sees him one day at Oakland, 'n' has a guy buy him.
"Harms brings this pup back East. He has his papers 'n' description all regular. The guy that buys him ain't wise--he's just a boob Harms is stallin' with. What he wants me to do is to take the hoss in my string, get him identified 'n' start him a couple of times; then when the odds is real juicy I'm to start Friendless under the dog's name 'n' Harms 'n' his gang'll bet him to a whisper at the poolrooms in Chicago 'n' New York.
"'Where's Friendless now?' I asks him.
"'They're gettin' him ready on a bull-ring up in Illinois,' says Harms. 'He's in good shape 'n' 'll be dead ripe time we get ready to ship him down here. I figure we'll put this gag across about Christmas.'
"'What does the boy wonder get fur swappin' mules with the Association?' I says. 'I'm just dyin' to know what Santa Claus'll bring little Alfred.'
"'You get all expenses, twenty-five bucks a week, 'n' a nice slice of the velvet when we cleans up,' says Harms.
"'Nix, on that noise!' says I. 'If you or some other benevolent gink don't crowd five hundred iron dollars on G. Percival the day before the bird flies, he won't leave the perch.'
"'Don't you trust me?' says Harms.
"'Sure,' I says, 'better'n Cassie Chadwick.'
"He argues, but it