yin' to sidestep the
banana peels of life and climb up with you, knock off thinkin' what a
big guy you are for a minute and give ten minutes to thinkin' what a
tough time you had gettin' there. Give five minutes more to ruminatin'
on how long the mob remembers a loser and you'll find it the best
sixteen minutes you ever spent in your life.

In these days when the world is just a great big baby yellin' for a new
toy every second, any simp can beat his way to the top. The real stunt
is _stayin' there_ after you arrive!

Kid Scanlan was a good sample of that. When the Kid was fightin' for
bean money and the exercise, he never spent nothin' but the evenin' and
very little of that. He didn't know whether booze was a drink or a
liniment and the only ladies he was bothered about was his mother. But
when he knocked out One-Punch Ross for the title and eased himself into
the movies, it was all different. He begin to spend money like a
vice-investigating committee, knock around with bartenders and give in
to all the strange desires that hits a guy with his health and a
bankroll. I stood by and cheered for a while until he crashes in love
with this movie queen, Miss Vincent, that got more money a start than
the Kid did in a season and more letters from well wishin' males than a
newly elected mayor. Then I stepped in and saved the Kid just before
he become a total loss.

I was standin' by the African Desert one day watchin' them take a
picture called "Rapacious Rupert's Revenge," when the Kid comes over
and calls me aside. Since he had become a actor he had gave himself up
to dressin' in panama hats, Palm Beach suits and white shoes. He
reminded me of the handsome young lieutenant in a musical comedy.
Every time I seen him in that outfit I expected to hear him burst into
some song like, "All hail, the Queen comes thither!" Know what I mean?

Well, havin' lured me away under the shade of some palm trees, the Kid
tells me he's goin' over to Frisco on a little shoppin' expedition, and
he wants me to come with him. I says I can't drink a thing because I
have had a terrible headache since the night before when him and me and
some camera men went to Montana Bill's and toyed with the illegal brew
for a few hours.

"That last round," I says, "which I'll always remember because it come
to six eighty-five, was what ruined me. The bartender must have gone
crazy and put booze in them cocktails, because I've had that headache