e added:
"But maybe it's just as well you're off it."

"Me and it don't hook up right," Bat confided to him. "It gets my hand
out. I can't stand it the way fellows like you do."

The hollow-chested man surveyed the speaker's big form and a look of
gratification came into his face.

"I guess that's so," said he. "I'm kind of under weight, but I'm a
pretty tough guy, for all. If it wasn't for the cough, I'd be holding my
own. And, say, on the square, I think the old juice is putting the cough
away. I do, for a fact. And if it does, and I can get some sleep at
night, maybe I'll come through, anyway."

"Sure," said Bat, sociably. "Sure thing."

The eyes of the big athlete searched the place as they had done a dozen
times since he entered. But there was no one present who answered to the
description he'd had of the burglar, Big Slim.

"The doc ain't strong for the stuff," proceeded the hollow-chested man.
"He's been knocking to get me to shut it off. But he don't understand my
constitution like I do."

Here there was a sudden hubbub of voices at the other end of the bar;
through the confusion a voice declared, excitedly:

"I'm gonna' beat him up! That goes, do you hear? I'm gonna' flatten the
big stiff. He made a monkey outa me, and he ain't gonna' get away with
it."

A half dozen voices protested against this at one time. "Duke" Sheehan,
in his shirt sleeves and diamonds, leaned over the bar.

"Don't be a nut now," remonstrated he. "A guy in your line, Push, wants
to do all his fighting in the ring. If he don't he'll get a bad name."

All the voices began to sound once more, and Bat Scanlon glanced at the
man at his side.

"It looks like trouble of some kind," said he.

The hollow-chested man, who had ordered another drink out of the dirty
little bottle, nodded.

"That big fellow that 'Duke' Sheehan's talking to is Push Allen, the
fighter. He comes all the way from K. C. thinking he was matched with a
guy; but when he gets here he finds his manager ain't put up the dough
to make the thing good. And so he's stung."

"That's bad behavior," said Scanlon. "Very bad. Mr. Allen will pick his
managers better next time."

"This guy ain't no regular manager," said the hollow-chested man. "He's
a fellow that's knocking around, doing job work." Here the speaker
laughed his wan laugh. "They call him Big Slim."

"Oh," said Scanlon, "I see."

Without further ado he dropped the evil smelling cigar, and moved toward