Two Footpads
Two
Footpads
Two Footpads sat at
their grog in a roadside resort, comparing the evening’s adventures. “I stood
up the Chief of Police,” said the First Footpad, “and I got away with what he
had.” “And I,” said the Second Footpad, “stood up the United States District
Attorney, and got away with—” “Good Lord!” interrupted the other in
astonishment and admiration—“you got away with what that fellow had?” “No,” the
unfortunate narrator explained—“with a small part of what I had.”
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