the boys might be here, I glanced through the window…"
He grinned, waiting for me to feed him the straight line. I let him wait, taking another slug of beer, and his lips pulled down in a little pout.
"I couldn't see you from the street, Frank. And yet I knew you were here. Aren't you interested in knowing how?"
I was curious about it. But I shrugged and said it made me no difference.
His eyes glinted spitefully. "The atmosphere of the place, Frank. The look on the faces of those poor girls. Tell me, if you don't like the food and the service here why don't you go some place else?"
"What's the use?" I said. "They're all alike."
"Oh? But-" He studied me puzzledly; then, his head moved in a nod, and he smiled in a way I didn't understand. "Yes," he said, "yes, I suppose they are all alike if…"
"Yeah?"
"Nothing. This is quite cozy, Frank; it's always such a joy to talk to you… I trust you're fully readjusted after your recent ordeal? You harbor no ill-will toward me?"
"A swell guy like you?" I said. "How could I?"
"I'm so glad. Incidentally, inasmuch as we are such good friends…"
"Fire away."
"How in the name of heaven did you get so deeply in the hole? After all, the other collectors also had the rain to contend with, and they didn't appropriate more than three hundred dollars in company funds."
"Well," I said. "Well, you see, Staples…"
"Yes, Frank?"
I couldn't tell him. I wouldn't have told him even if! could have found the right words, because it just wouldn't have been smart. But I couldn't find the right words.
"Are you fed up, Frank? Is that it? Feel like your best effort gains you no more than your worst, that existence itself has become pointless?"
Well, like I say, I couldn't tell him; but he hadn't missed it very far. I couldn't get out and hit the old ball any more because I just didn't give a damn any more. And I guess there's nothing that can make a guy give a damn if he doesn't feel like it.
"How about it, Frank?" His lisp was gone. "You may as well tell me now, if that's the case."
"Hell," I said. "You talk like a man in a paper hat. What's the difference anyway?"
He didn't bother to answer me. Just waited. The difference was that if I couldn't earn my dough, I'd probably go back to stealing it. And I might skip out with a wad before he could nail me.
"I don't get you," I said, stalling for time. "If you were worried, why didn't you jump me about it this afternoon instead of-"
"I'm not the jumping kind, Frank. I always think things through, put all the various pieces together, before I act. Now, what happened to that money?"
A month or so later on I could have told him to go to hell; that, sure I was fed up with the damned stinking job and who wouldn't be, and so what the hell about it? But it wasn't a month or so later, and until it was-until everything had cooled off and it was safe to skip with Mona-I had to have a reason for staying in this crummy burg. I had to hang onto the job.
"… you understand, dear boy." He was quizzing me again. "I'm not merely being nosy. If it's simply something shady or unwise, if, for example, you spent it on a woman or took a little flyer on the ponies…"
I looked up, meeting his eyes at last. He'd rung the bell with that last bit. He'd shown me how to get off the hook, and he'd also opened the way for me to ask him some questions.
"You remember that sales letter I showed you a while back? From that oil company down in Oklahoma?"
"Letter?" He shrugged. "I think you've showed me at least a dozen. For a man with some pretensions to sophistication, you seem to have landed on a truly amazing number of sucker lists. But-" He broke off, staring at me. "Oh, no!" he said. "No, Frank! You didn't send that outfit any money."
"Yeah," I looked sheepish. "I guess I did, Stape."
"But I distinctly told you-"
"Yeah, I know," I said, "but look at all the other things you told me. About the chances you missed when you were running a store down there years
He grinned, waiting for me to feed him the straight line. I let him wait, taking another slug of beer, and his lips pulled down in a little pout.
"I couldn't see you from the street, Frank. And yet I knew you were here. Aren't you interested in knowing how?"
I was curious about it. But I shrugged and said it made me no difference.
His eyes glinted spitefully. "The atmosphere of the place, Frank. The look on the faces of those poor girls. Tell me, if you don't like the food and the service here why don't you go some place else?"
"What's the use?" I said. "They're all alike."
"Oh? But-" He studied me puzzledly; then, his head moved in a nod, and he smiled in a way I didn't understand. "Yes," he said, "yes, I suppose they are all alike if…"
"Yeah?"
"Nothing. This is quite cozy, Frank; it's always such a joy to talk to you… I trust you're fully readjusted after your recent ordeal? You harbor no ill-will toward me?"
"A swell guy like you?" I said. "How could I?"
"I'm so glad. Incidentally, inasmuch as we are such good friends…"
"Fire away."
"How in the name of heaven did you get so deeply in the hole? After all, the other collectors also had the rain to contend with, and they didn't appropriate more than three hundred dollars in company funds."
"Well," I said. "Well, you see, Staples…"
"Yes, Frank?"
I couldn't tell him. I wouldn't have told him even if! could have found the right words, because it just wouldn't have been smart. But I couldn't find the right words.
"Are you fed up, Frank? Is that it? Feel like your best effort gains you no more than your worst, that existence itself has become pointless?"
Well, like I say, I couldn't tell him; but he hadn't missed it very far. I couldn't get out and hit the old ball any more because I just didn't give a damn any more. And I guess there's nothing that can make a guy give a damn if he doesn't feel like it.
"How about it, Frank?" His lisp was gone. "You may as well tell me now, if that's the case."
"Hell," I said. "You talk like a man in a paper hat. What's the difference anyway?"
He didn't bother to answer me. Just waited. The difference was that if I couldn't earn my dough, I'd probably go back to stealing it. And I might skip out with a wad before he could nail me.
"I don't get you," I said, stalling for time. "If you were worried, why didn't you jump me about it this afternoon instead of-"
"I'm not the jumping kind, Frank. I always think things through, put all the various pieces together, before I act. Now, what happened to that money?"
A month or so later on I could have told him to go to hell; that, sure I was fed up with the damned stinking job and who wouldn't be, and so what the hell about it? But it wasn't a month or so later, and until it was-until everything had cooled off and it was safe to skip with Mona-I had to have a reason for staying in this crummy burg. I had to hang onto the job.
"… you understand, dear boy." He was quizzing me again. "I'm not merely being nosy. If it's simply something shady or unwise, if, for example, you spent it on a woman or took a little flyer on the ponies…"
I looked up, meeting his eyes at last. He'd rung the bell with that last bit. He'd shown me how to get off the hook, and he'd also opened the way for me to ask him some questions.
"You remember that sales letter I showed you a while back? From that oil company down in Oklahoma?"
"Letter?" He shrugged. "I think you've showed me at least a dozen. For a man with some pretensions to sophistication, you seem to have landed on a truly amazing number of sucker lists. But-" He broke off, staring at me. "Oh, no!" he said. "No, Frank! You didn't send that outfit any money."
"Yeah," I looked sheepish. "I guess I did, Stape."
"But I distinctly told you-"
"Yeah, I know," I said, "but look at all the other things you told me. About the chances you missed when you were running a store down there years
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