So if you-alls will call the last waltz, an' wind her up for
to-night, it'll shorely be a he'p. The kid's mother'll be yere by
sun-up; which her advent that a-way alters the play all 'round, an'
matters then goes back to old lines.'
"'Enough said,' says Jim Hamilton, who runs the dance-hall. 'You can
gamble this temple of mirth ain't layin' down on what's right, an'
tonight's shindig closes right yere. All promenade to the bar. We
takes a drink on the house, quits, an' calls it a day.'
"Then Jack comes back, a heap grave with his cares, an' relieves
Boggs; who's on watch, straddled of a chair, a-eyein' of the infant,
who, a-settin' up ag'in a goose-ha'r piller, is likewise a-eyein' of
Boggs.
"'He's a 'way up good infant, Jack,' says Boggs, givin' up his seat.
"'You can bet your life he's a good infant,' says Jack; 'but it
shore looks like he don't aim to turn in an' slumber none. Mebby the
goat's milk is too invigeratin' for 'him, an' keeps him awake that
a-way.'
"About another hour goes by, an' out comes Jack into the Red Light
ag'in.
"'I ain't aimin' to disturb you-alls none,' he says, 'but, gents, if
you-alls could close these games yere, an' shet up the store, I'll
take it as a personal favor.
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