s not one man in a thousand that considers it cheating to
give himself a bit the best of it. Now you argue that the public is
ignorant and that the only way to get it right is to educate it. Well,
the fellow who walked off with the boss's one hundred and seventy-five
dollars is educated."

"How do you account for his dishonesty" inquired Alfred.

"I don't account for it."

It was arranged that Spaff go to the boss, patch up matters between him
and Alfred. Spaff requested Alfred remain in the hall that he might be
near. The door closed on Spaff. Alfred remained near it; he wished
afterwards he had not. The transom was open and every word uttered in
the room floated through it.

Spaff began: "Say, boss, I've been talking to that fresh young nigger
singer, and, while he don't know much, it's my opinion he knows nothing
of the guy who done you for the capital prize. He's purty handy around
here and I thought you better keep him. I've got him going; I told him
if he left now everybody would conclude he was in on the capital prize
trick. So I think he'll stick."

"What the hell do I care whether he sticks or not? He may be straight
but I doubt it. The only reason I want him to stay is that he will have
trouble in finding the other guy; I'm certain they were to meet
somewhere and split up the touch."

Spaff was heard to say: "No, I think you're wrong. I am sure this kid is
not in on it. I know that fellow; he's slick, he's always been a sure
thing man and he has been planning this touch for sometime. He simply
used Alfred to get an introduction."

"Well, he's a good one. He did not want to draw the prize, he argued;
all the best people in town knew him and it would be difficult to
deceive them. Why, I thought he was a small town jay. He even cautioned
me to have someone at the door to receive the money, he did not care to
carry it about with him." After a pause he continued: "Well, about this
boy; what shall I say to him? I don't think it's a good play to let him
go; not now, at any rate. You say he's straight. Do you reckon he's on
to the capital prize fake?"

"Well, I dunno," answered Spaff. "If he is, and he's dirty, he could
queer us in all these towns; he's been through here with two or three
Jim Crow minstrel shows; these rubes imagine he's some pumpkins. Why, I
have to go out of the house every time he comes on. He's the rankest
performer I ever saw; he can sing a little and that lets him out. Why
don't you cu