"Drove ye out onto th' streets, Kid? That's dam' hard on
you!"
"Yes, Bud, I--guess she--don't want me around--"
"Kind o' looks that way!" nodded M'Ginnis, and filling Spike's glass,
he put it into the boy's unwilling fingers. "Take a drink, Kid; ye sure
need it!" said he.
"'S right," murmured Soapy, "told ye Bud 'ud comfort ye, didn't I, Kid?"
"So Hermy's drove ye away?" said M'Ginnis, "throwed ye out--eh?"
"She sure has, Bud, an' I--Oh, I'm miserable as hell!"
"Why, then, get some o' Bud's comfort into ye, Kid," murmured Soapy.
"Lap it up good, Kid; there's plenty more--in th' bottle!"
"Let him alone," growled M'Ginnis, "he don't want you buttin' in!"
"'S right, too, Bud!" nodded Soapy, "he's got you, ain't he? An'
you--got him, ain't you?"
"I didn't think Hermy 'ud ever treat me--like this!" said Spike
tearfully.
"You mean--throwin' ye out into th' streets, Kid? Why, I been expectin'
it!"
"Expectin' it?" repeated Spike, setting down his glass and staring,
"why?"
"Well, she's a girl, ain't she, an' they're all th' same, I reckon--"
"An' Bud knows all about girls, Kid!" murmured Soapy.
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