"Oh, don't he make it, though? Confound him!"

"You ought to of stayed shut of him, Lefty."

"Did I hunt him up, I ask you? Am I a nut? No, I ain't. Do I go along
stepping on the tail of a rattlesnake? No more do I look up Donnegan."

He groaned as he remembered.

"I was going fine. Nothing could of been better. I had the boys
together. We was doing so well that I was riding the cushions and I went
around planning the jobs. Nice, clean work. No cans tied to it. But one
day I had to meet Suds down in the Meriton Jungle. You know?"

"I've heard--plenty," said the brakie.

"Oh, it ain't so bad--the Meriton. I've seen a lot worse. Found Suds
there, and Suds was playing Black Jack with an ol gink. He was trimmin'
him close. Get Suds going good and he could read 'em three down and bury
'em as fast as they came under the bottom card. Takes a hand to do that
sort of work. And that's the sort of work Suds was doing for the old
man. Pretty soon the game was over and the old man was busted. He took
up his pack and beat it, saying nothing and looking sick. I started
talking to Suds.

"And while he was talking, along comes a bo and gives us a once-over. He
knew me. 'Is this here a friend of yours, Lefty? he says.

"'Sure,' says I.