The Oakdale Affair
too perfect mouth of The Oskaloosa Kid, an appellation which we must, perforce, accept since the youth did not deny it.     

       Columbus Blackie, The General, and Dirty Eddie were formally presented. As Dirty Eddie was, physically, the cleanest member of the band the youth wondered how he had come by his sobriquet—that is, he wondered until he heard Dirty Eddie speak, after which he was no longer in doubt. The Oskaloosa Kid, self-confessed 'tramp' and burglar, flushed at the lurid obscenity of Dirty Eddie's remarks.     

       “Sit down, bo,” invited Soup Face. “I guess you're a regular all right. Here, have a snifter?” and he pulled a flask from his side pocket, holding it toward The Oskaloosa Kid.     

       “Thank you, but;—er—I'm on the wagon, you know,” declined the youth.     

       “Have a smoke?” suggested Columbus Blackie. “Here's the makin's.”      

       The change in the attitude of the men toward him pleased The Oskaloosa Kid immensely. They were treating him as one of them, and after the lonely walk through the dark and desolate farm lands human companionship of any kind was to him as the proverbial straw to the man who rocked the boat once too often.     

       Dopey Charlie and The General, alone of all the company, waxed not enthusiastic over the advent of The Oskaloosa Kid and his priceless loot. These two sat scowling and whispering in the back-ground. “Dat's a wrong guy,” muttered the former to the latter. “He's a stool pigeon or one of dese amatoor mugs.”      

       “It's the pullin' of that punk graft that got my goat,” replied The General. “I never seen a punk yet that didn't try to make you think he was a wise guy an' dis stiff don't belong enough even to pull a spiel that would fool a old ladies' sewin' circle. I don't see wot The Sky Pilot's cozyin' up to him fer.”      

       “You don't?” scoffed Dopey Charlie. “Didn't you lamp de oyster harness? To say nothin' of de mitful of rocks and kale.”      

       “That 'ud be all right, too,” replied the other, “if we could put the guy to sleep; but The Sky Pilot won't never stand for croakin' nobody. He's too scared of his neck. We'll look like a bunch o' wise ones, won't we? lettin' a 
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