When we'd finished our game of billiards he
hung up his cue, and then he turned around like
lightning, and faced the boys that were standing around
with their hands in their pockets. He had a odd little
smile on his face--a smile with no fun it, if you know
what I mean. Guess you do, maybe, if you've seen it.
"`Boys,' says he, smilin' that twisted kind of smile,
`boys, I'm lookin' for a job. I'm not much of a talker,
an' I'm only a amateur at music, and my game of billiards
is ragged. But there's one thing I can do, fellows, from
abc up to xyz, and that's write. I can write, boys, in
a way to make your pet little political scribe sound like
a high school paper. I don't promise to stick. As soon
as I get on my feet again I'm going back to New York.
But not just yet. Meanwhile, I'm going to the highest
bidder.'
"Well, you know since Merkle left us we haven't had
a day when we wasn't scooped on some political guff. `I
guess we can use you--some place,' I says, tryin' not t'
look too anxious. If your ideas on salary can take a
slump be tween New York and Milwaukee. Our salaries
around here is more what is elegantly known as a stipend.
What's your name, Bo?'
"`Name?' says he, smiling again, `Maybe it'll be
familiar t' you.
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