There is a swell moon, an’ when there is a current of air caused by the car startin’ up I get a whiff of perfume that she is wearin’—carnation, an’ I always did go for carnation. Only it is not that heavy sorta perfume, but nice an’ mild, you know what I mean. It makes me remember the night when I went over her room an’ sniffed that scent for the first time. I remember all her shoes an’ ridin’ boots standin’ in a row, an’ I suddenly get a big idea. I get the idea that I am becomin’ much too interested in this dame, an’ that I had better watch my step otherwise I may be fallin’ for her just around the time when I am goin’ to be makin’ a pinch.
Which, I oughta tell you, is one of the loads of grief that a d**k has to bear. Any sorta cop, no matter whether he is Federal, State or local, is a
