'I was thinking of the time me and George put sheep-dip in Horsehead
Johnson's whisky. I wish I was back in Atascosa City,' says he.
"I felt a cold chill run down my back. 'Me to play and mate in one
move,' says I to myself.
"I made Solly promise to stay in the cafe for half an hour and I hiked
out in a cab to Lolabelle Delatour's flat on Forty-third Street. I
knew her well. She was a chorus-girl in a Broadway musical comedy.
"'Jane,' says I when I found her, 'I've got a friend from Texas here.
He's all right, but--well, he carries weight. I'd like to give him a
little whirl after the show this evening--bubbles, you know, and a
buzz out to a casino for the whitebait and pickled walnuts. Is it a
go?'
"'Can he sing?' asks Lolabelle.
"'You know,' says I, 'that I wouldn't take him away from home unless
his notes were good. He's got pots of money--bean-pots full of it.'
"'Bring him around after the second act,' says Lolabelle, 'and I'll
examine his credentials and securities.'
"So about ten o'clock that evening I led Solly to Miss Delatour's
dressing-room, and her maid let us in.
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