with me. Right off the bat there's going to be velvet. Later on I'll
educate you. In three months you'll be worth your salt. Are you on?"

He hardly waited for Terry to reply. He rambled on.

"I got a plant that can't fail to blossom into the long green, kid. The
store safe. You know what's in it? I'll tell you. Ten thousand cold. Ten
thousand bucks, boy. Well, well, and how did it get there? Because a lot
of the boobs around here have put their spare cash in the safe for
safekeeping!"

He tilted his chin and indulged in another of his yawning, silent bursts
of laughter.

"And you never seen a peter like it. Tin, kid, tin. I could turn it
inside out with a can opener. But I ain't long on a kit just now. I'm on
the hog for fair, as a matter of fact. Well, I don't need a kit. I got
some sawdust and I can make the soup as pretty as you ever seen. We'll
blow the safe, kid, and then we'll float. Are you on?"

He paused, grinning with expectation, his face gradually becoming blank
as he saw no response in Terry.

"As nearly as I can make out--because most of the slang is new to me,"
said Terry, "you want to dynamite the store safe and--"

"Who said sawdust? Soup, kid, soup! I want to blow the door off the
peter, not the roof off the house. Say, who d'you think I am, a boob?"

"I understand, then. Nitroglycerin? Denver, I'm not with you. It's mighty