the monstrous notion of going out there. Now I've heard the truth, I think you're completely cuckoo.
Jack, I came west to clear out of one jam. Why should I get into another?
Because this is too good a thing to throw down.
But I'm making plenty of money as it is, Ambrose persisted.
You pelican, nobody ever made enough jack: Nobody could. When your play stops running, your income will stop and you'll have to write another. Clean up on this splendid proposition and go to live in Persia.
I don't want to live in Persia, Ambrose responded fretfully.
Well, Akron, Ohio. Anywhere. I don't care.
I won't do it. Ambrose's intimacy with Jack and the effect of the tequila made it possible for him to set his jaw fairly firmly.
As Jack Story shrugged his shoulders and lighted his pipe, Ambrose told himself, I'm in for another argument, but Jack only inquired, Know anything about Indian pottery?
No, I don't, but that looks like fine stuff on the mantel-shelf.
Finest there is out here. Do you see that pot of deep orange and umber and red with the queer stiff
