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Various

"The Best Short Stories of 1921 and the Yearbook of the American Short Story"


"I give her another look, but I can't make much out of her, except she's
some kind of a nigger, anyhow. She's sittin' on the bench far away from
the light, and she's dressed in a second-hand horse blanket, a feed
sack, and a bran' new pair of ar'tics. And she don't say a word.
"'Well,' says I, 'if she ain't some kind of nigger, I'll eat my--'
"But there he is, all of a sudden, squarin' off in front o' me, his mug
stuck up and his eyes like a couple o' headlights. Imagine! The guy
ain't got enough meat on his bones for a rest'rant chicken. Honest to
God, he looked like he'd been through a mile o' sausage mill. But crazy
as a bedbug. And there's somethin' about a crazy man--
"'Hold y'r gab!' says he. To _me_! That gets my goat.
"'Just for that,' says I, 'you can get out o' this station. And don't
forget to take your _woman_ along with you. Get out!'
"'Get out--_hell!_' says he. He sticks his mug right in my face.
"'That woman you speak so light of,' says he, 'is a queen. A Canuck
queen,' say he.
"I had to laugh. 'Since when was there queens in Canada?' says I. 'And
since when has the Canuck queens been usin' stove polish for talcum
powder?'
"The guys grabs me by the coat. Listen. He was strong as a wire. He was
deceivin'. A wire with ten thousand volts into it.


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