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The other sank noiselessly into a chair. "All right, bo," he said.
Jimmy proffered him his cigar-case.
"No, thanks," declined the visitor. "I'd rather have a coffin-nail," which Jimmy
forthwith furnished.
"I should think," said Jimmy, "that your particular line of endeavor would prove
rather hazardous in a place where you are known by the police."
The other smiled and, as before, with his lips alone.
"Naw," he said; "this is the safest place to work. If ten per cent of the bulls know
me I got that much on them, and then some, because any boob can spot any one
o' de harness bunch, and I know nearly every fly on the department. They're the
guys yuh gotta know, and usually I know something besides their names, too,"
and again his lips smiled.
"
How much of your time do you have to put in at your occupation to make a
living?" asked Jimmy.
"Sometimes I put in six or eight hours a day," replied the visitor. "De rush hours
on de surface line are usually good for two or t'ree hours a day, but I been layin'
off dat stuff lately and goin' in fer de t'ater crowd. Dere's more money and shorter
hours."
"You confine yourself," asked Jimmy, "to--er--ah--pocket-picking solely?"
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