“I don’t mind the watch and the radio, but
it really hurt, losing those boots. They were a
thing of beauty and a joy forever.” Guidry
leaned forward, and glanced at Allerton. “I
don’t know whether I ought to say things like
this in front of Junior here. No offense, kid.”
“Go ahead,” said Allerton.
“Did I tell you how I made the cop on the
beat? He’s the vigilante, the watchman out
where I live. Every time he sees the light on
in my room, he comes in for a shot of rum.
Well, about five nights ago he caught me
when I was drunk and horny, and one thing
led to another and I ended up showing him
how the cow ate the cabbage . . .
“So the night after I make him I was walk-
ing by the beer joint on the corner and he
comes out borracho and says, ‘Have a drink.’
Isaid, ‘I don’t want a drink.’ So he takes out
his pistola and says, ‘Have a drink.’ I pro-
ceeded to take his pistola away from him,
and he goes into the beer joint to phone for