up? No offense, Mac."

"No offense," Charley said. "I'm just going to talk to him."

"Oh," the cabbie said. "Sure." There was silence for a second. Then the
cabbie turned around. The machine shot ahead, down a wide avenue filled
with cars. Charley took a deep breath and forgot to let it go. "You
know," the cabbie said, "I seen something funny the other day."

"Really?" Charley said, through clenched teeth.

The cabbie turned back casually, flicked the wheel to avoid an oncoming
truck, and continued: "Funny, yeah. Went to the Flea Museum ... you
know, the sideshow here, on Forty-second?"

"I know it," Charley said. He'd been offered winter work in the place
several times, though he'd never accepted. Everyone in carny life knew
of the place.

"And, anyhow, I went down the other day, and there was this guy ... he
was like you, Mac, I mean no arms. You don't mind me talking about it?"

Apparently everybody thought he was sensitive on the subject, Charley
reflected tiredly. "I don't mind," he said.

"Sure," the cabbie said. A red light showed ahead and the cab screeched
to a halt. "Anyhow, there he was, like a freak, you know? Hell, Mac, I
was mad. I mean mad. The guy wants me to pay money to see him; he don't
want to go get cured. He's like lazy, Mac. Lazy. Wants to sit around and
let me pay money I work hard for, like some kind of a stuffed exhibit he
thinks he is." The light changed; the cab shuddered and moved on. "And
this doctor right here in the same city. Now, what do you think of
that?"

Charley shrugged. "I wouldn't know," he said cautiously. He took out a
cigarette with his left foot, lit it with his right, and slid both feet
back into his shoes. "Nearly there?" he asked.

"No offense, Mac," the cabbie said, sounding obscurely troubled. "We're
there in a minute." He turned and stared narrowly at Charley. The cab
shot blindly on. "Say, listen. That with the cigarette. You belong to
some kind of sideshow? I mean, no offense--"

"No offense," Charley said. "That's right. I'm with a carnival."

"We'll, you're doing the right thing," the cabbie said, turning back to
the road again. Amazingly, there was no obstruction before them. "I
mean, a guy has to be honest. With this doctor around, you can't be a
no-arms guy any more; it's not fair. Right?"

Charley licked his lips. The cab stopped.

"Here we are," the driver announced.

Charley indicated his grouch-bag, still heavy with dollar bills, hanging
rou