e arms and I'm grabbing the stuff he's carrying.
Yeah, we get out of there.

There's bulls on the street, so we cut through the back and over the
fences. Tiny don't like that. He tells me, "Cow. What's to leave this
cat here? He must weigh eighteen tons." "You're bringing him," I tell
him, so he shuts up. That's how it is in the Boomer Dukes. When Cow
talks, them other flunkies shut up fast.

We get him in the loft over the R. and I. Social Club. Damn, but it's
cold up there. I can hear the pool balls clicking down below so I pass
the word to keep quiet. Then I give this guy the foot and pretty soon he
wakes up.

As soon as I talk to him a little bit I figure we had luck riding with
us when we see them Leopards. This cat's got real bad stuff. Yeah, I
never hear of anything like it. But what it takes to make a fight he's
got. I take my old pistol and give it to Tiny. Hell, it makes him happy
and what's it cost me? Because what this cat's got makes that pistol
look like something for babies.

* * * * *

First he don't want to talk. "Stomp him," I tell Angel, but he's scared.
He says, "Nay. This is a real weird cat, Cow. I'm for cutting out of
here."

"Stomp him," I tell him again, pretty quiet, but he does it. He don't
have to tell me this cat's weird, but when the cat gets the foot a
couple of times he's willing to talk. Yeah, he talks real funny, but
that don't matter to me. We take all the loot out of his bag, and I make
this cat tell me what it's to do. Damn, I don't know what he's talking
about one time out of six, but I know enough. Even Tiny catches on after
a while, because I see him put down that funky old pistol I gave him
that he's been loving up.

I'm feeling pretty good. I wish a couple of them chicken Leopards would
turn up so I could show them what they missed out on. Yeah, I'll take on
them, and the Black Dogs, and all the cops in the world all at
once--that's how good I'm feeling. I feel so good that I don't even like
it when Angel lets out a yell and comes up with a wad of loot. It's like
I want to prime the U.S. Mint for chickenfeed, I don't want it to come
so easy.

But money's on hand, so I take it off Angel and count it. This cat was
really loaded; there must be a thousand dollars here.

I take a handful of it and hand it over to Angel real cool. "Get us some
charge," I tell him. "There's much to do and I'm feeling ready for some
charge to do it with."

"H