The Dark Star

Curfoot, still pondering over the "new stuff" offered him, brooded

silently in his corner, watching the others out of his tiny, bright

eyes.

"Do anything in London?" inquired Stull.

"No."

"Who was you working for?"

"A jock and a swell skirt. But Scotland Yard got next and chased the

main guy over the water."

"What was your lay?"

"Same thing. I dealt for the jock and the skirt trimmed the squabs."

"Anybody holler?"

"Aw--the kind we squeezed was too high up to holler. Them young lords

take their medicine like they wanted it. They ain't like the home

bunch that is named after swell hotels."

After a silence he looked up at Brandes: "What ever become of Minna Minti?" he asked.

Brandes' heavy features remained stolid.

"She got her divorce, didn't she?" insisted Curfoot.

"Yes."

"Alimony?"

"No. She didn't ask any."

"How about Venem?"

Brandes remained silent, but Stull said: "I guess she chucked him. She wouldn't stand for that snake. I got to

hand it to her; she ain't that kind."

"What kind is she?"

"I tell you I got to hand it to her. I can't complain of her. She

acted white all right until Venem stirred her up. Eddie's got himself

to blame; he got in wrong and Venem had him followed and showed him up

to Minna."

"You got tired of her, didn't you?" said Curfoot to Brandes. But Stull

answered for him again: "Like any man, Eddie needed a vacation now and then. But no skirt

understands."

Brandes said slowly: "I'll live to fix Minna yet."

"What fixed you," snapped Stull, "was that there Brookhollow

stuff----"

"Can it!" retorted Brandes, turning a deep red.

"Aw--don't hand me the true-love stuff, Eddie! If you'd meant it with

that little haymaker you'd have respected her----"

Brandes' large face became crimson with rage: "You say another word about her and I'll push your block off--you

little dough-faced kike!"

Stull shrugged and presently whispered to Curfoot: "That's the play he always makes. I've waited two years, but he won't

ring down on the love stuff. I guess he was hit hard that trip. It

took a little red-headed, freckled country girl to stop him. But it

was comin' to Eddie Brandes, and it certainly looks like it was there

to stay a while."

"He's still stuck on her?"

"I guess she's still the fly paper," nodded Stull.

Suddenly Brandes turned on Stull such a look of concentrated hatred

that the little gambler's pallid features stiffened with surprise: "Ben," said Brandes in a low voice, which was too indistinct for

Neeland to catch, "I'll tell you something now that you don't know. I

saw Quint alone; I talked with him. Do you know who is handling the

big stuff in this deal?"