386 FICKLE GAMEY. 



as a scraper in the corner of his mouth, he told the 

 maiden lady of this and that on racing until she could 

 feel the ponies tramping on her hair. After another 

 small bottle, that was the limit, and with a wink to 

 charge it to Murph — the gall of the beast — the pair 

 stamped out on the stoop and called for the horse. 

 He came out prancing, and the way Gamey trounced 

 the lah da dah speed owners up and down the avenue 

 that afternoon was a revelation to dogs and little 

 fishes. His old "hicar" could be heard from Judge 

 Smith's around the bend and by the glass front stoop 

 at Case's, where Murphy and the rest of them were 

 thawing out with hot toddies and cracking their 

 sides laughing at Gamey's gall in charging two small 

 bottles to Murphy's account. Murphy never winked 

 an eye. He knew that he would catch up with the 

 old peg later. 



After trimming everything he tackled, Gamey 

 pulled up at Judge Smith's and ordered his horse 

 cooled out and fed. He was making a splurge, as 

 the maiden lady told him she had two tenners 

 knotted in the corner of her pocket handker- 

 chief, and on the strength of it he ordered a 

 supper that would bring up all 'standing. The 

 likes of him had not been seen on the road for 

 a few days, and Gamey was out to win- After the 

 'steenth, ''here's looking at you," with the boys in 

 the cafe, while the lady was up stairs brushing up 

 for the banquet, one of the rakiest lads in the bunch 

 stumped Gamey for a trade. It was the first nibble, 

 and it went into the sawdust with the drinks Gamey 

 had not swallowed. Oh, but he was a smooth one ! 

 After another bite that looked as though he had taken 



