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Wodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville), 1881-1975

"Piccadilly Jim"

See?"
"I get you, kid."
"Well, if that's understood, all right. Give me a minute to get
some clothes on, and I'll be with you."
"Don't make a noise," said Mr. Crocker.
"Who's making any noise? Say, how did you get in here?"
"T'roo de libery windows."
"I always knew some yegg would stroll in that way. It beats me
why they didn't have bars fixed on them."
"Dere's a buzz-wagon outside, waitin'."
"You do it in style, don't you?" observed Ogden, pulling on his
shirt. "Who's working this with you? Any one I know?"
"Naw. A new guy."
"Oh? Say, I don't remember you, if it comes to that."
"You don't?" said Mr. Crocker a little discomposed.
"Well, maybe I wouldn't, with that mask on you. Which of them
are you?"
"Chicago Ed.'s my monaker."
"I don't remember any Chicago Ed."
"Well, you will after dis!" said Mr. Crocker, happily inspired.
Ogden was eyeing him with sudden suspicion.
"Take that mask off and let's have a look at you."
"Nothing doin'."
"How am I to know you're on the level?"
Mr. Crocker played a daring card.
"All right," he said, making a move towards the door. "It's up to
youse. If you t'ink I'm not on de level, I'll beat it."
"Here, stop a minute," said Ogden hastily, unwilling that a
promising business deal should be abandoned in this summary
manner. "I'm not saying anything against you. There's no need to
fly off the handle like that.


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