Huh!"
Mrs. Sikora, weeping, explained to the Juvenile Court officer.
"My man died," she said, "and--and I spent the money for the funeral. It
was not for myself, but for him I spent the money."
It will turn out all right, some day. And in the meantime Mrs. Sikora,
when she is washing clothes for someone, will be able when her back aches
too much to remember the day she rode in the black limousine and the band
played and the air was filled with the smell of flowers.
DAPPER PETE AND THE SUCKER PLAY
Dapper Pete Handley, the veteran con man, shook hands all around with his
old friends in the detective bureau and followed his captors into the
basement. Another pinch for Dapper Pete; another jam to pry out of. The
cell door closed and Pete composed his lean, gambler's face, eyed his
manicured nails and with a sigh sat down on the wooden cell bench to wait
for his lawyer.
"Whether I'm guilty of this or not," said Dapper Pete, "it goes to show
what a sucker a guy is--even a smart guy. This ain't no sermon against a
life of crime I'm pulling, mind you. I'm too old to do that and my sense
of humor is workin' too good. I'm only sayin' what a sucker a guy
is--sometimes. Take me."
Dapper Pete registered mock woe.
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