ezed it out," says Snick; "out of myself, too. And you know me. I
always was as good to myself as other folks would let me. But all that
had to be changed. It come hard, I admit, and it cost more'n I figured
on. Why, some of his voice culture lessons set me back ten a throw. Think
of that! He's had 'em, though. And me? Well, I've lived on one meal a
day. I've done a double trick: on the wagon day times, night cashier in a
drug store from nine till two a.m. I've cut out theaters, cigarettes, and
drinks. I've made my old clothes last over, and I've pinched the dimes
and nickels so hard my thumbprints would look like treasury dies. But
we've got the goods, Shorty. Hermy may be the mushiest, sappiest, hen
brained specimen of a man you ever saw; but when it comes to being a high
class grand opera barytone, he's the kid! And little Percival here is his
manager and has the power of attorney that will fix him for keeps if I
know anything!"

"Ye-e-es?" says I. "Reminds me some of the time when you was backin'
Doughnut to win the Suburban. Recollect how hard you scraped to get the
two-fifty you put down on Doughnut at thirty to one, and how hard you
begged me to jump in and pull out a bale of easy money? Let's see; did
the skate finish tenth, or did he fall through the hole in his name?"

"Ah, say!" says Snick. "Don't go digging that up now. That was sport.
This is straight business, on the level, and I ain't asking you to put up
a cent."

"Well, what then?" says I.

Would you guess it? He wants me to book Hermy for a private exhibition
before some of my swell friends! All I've got to do is to persuade some
of 'em to give a little musicale, and then spring this nutmeg wonder on
the box holdin' set without warnin'.

"If he was a Russki with long hair," says I, "or even a fiddlin' Czech,
they might stand for it; but to ask 'em to listen to a domestic unknown
from Bridgeport, Conn.----I wouldn't have the nerve, Snick. Why not take
him around to the concert agencies first?"

"Bah!" says Snick. "Haven't we worn out the settees in the agency
offices? What do they know about good barytone voices? All they judge by
is press clippings and lists of past engagements. Now, your people would
know. He'd have 'em going in two minutes, and they'd spread the news
afterwards. Then we'd have the agents coming to us. See?"

Course I couldn't help gettin' int'rested in this long shot of Snick's,
even if I don't take any stock in his judgment;