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Page 29
"How long have you had it?" inquired the citizen.
"Four years. I guess that ain't all. Once you've got it, it's you for a
rheumatic life -- that's my judgment."
"Ever try rattlesnake oil?" asked the citizen, interestedly.
"Gallons," said the burglar. "If all the snakes I've used the oil of was
strung out in a row they'd reach eight times as far as Saturn, and the
rattles could be heard at Valparaiso, Indiana, and back."
"Some use Chiselum's Pills," remarked the citizen.
"Fudge!" said the burglar. "Took 'em five months. No good. I had some
relief the year I tried Finkelham's Extract, Balm of Gilead poultices and
Potts's Pain Pulverizer; but I think it was the buckeye I carried in my
pocket what done the trick."
"Is yours worse in the morning or at night?" asked the citizen.
"Night," said the burglar; "just when I'm busiest. Say, take down that
arm of yours -- I guess you won't -- Say! did you ever try Blickerstaff's
Blood Builder?"
"I never did. Does yours come in paroxysms or is it a steady pain?"
The burglar sat down on the foot of the bed and rested his gun on his
crossed knee.
"It jumps," said he. "It strikes me when I ain't looking for it. I had
to give up second-story work because I got stuck sometimes half-way up.
Tell you what -- I don't believe the bloomin' doctors know what is good
for it."
"Same here. I've spent a thousand dollars without getting any relief.
Yours swell any?"
"Of mornings. And when it's goin' to rain -- great Christopher!"
"Me, too," said the citizen. "I can tell when a streak of humidity the
size of a table-cloth starts from Florida on its way to New York. And if
I pass a theatre where there's an 'East Lynne' matinee going on, the
moisture starts my left arm jumping like a toothache."
"It's undiluted -- hades!" said the burglar.
"You're dead right," said the citizen.
The burglar looked down at his pistol and thrust it into his pocket with
an awkward attempt at ease.
"Say, old man," he said, constrainedly, "ever try opodeldoc?"
"Slop!" said the citizen angrily. "Might as well rub on restaurant
butter."
"Sure," concurred the burglar. "It's a salve suitable for little Minnie
when the kitty scratches her finger. I'll tell you what! We're up against
it. I only find one thing that eases her up. Hey? Little old sanitary,
ameliorating, lest-we-forget Booze. Say -- this job's off -- 'scuse me --
get on your clothes and let's go out and have some. 'Scuse the liberty,
but -- ouch! There she goes again!"
"For a week," said the citizen. "I haven't been able to dress myself
without help. I'm afraid Thomas is in bed, and --"
"Climb out," said the burglar, "I'll help you get into your duds."
The conventional returned as a tidal wave and flooded the citizen. He
stroked his brown-and-gray beard.
"It's very unusual --" he began.
"Here's your shirt," said the burglar, "fall out. I knew a man who said
Omberry's Ointment fixed him in two weeks so he could use both hands in
tying his four-in-hand."
As they were going out the door the citizen turned and started back.
"Liked to forgot my money," he explained; "laid it on the dresser last
night."
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