“Oh, knocked around.”
“Hitch-hiked?
Rode freights?
Bummed your meals wherever you could?”
“Yes sir.”
He unstrapped a briefcase, put a pile of papers on the table, and began looking through them.
“Ever been in Frisco?”
“Born there.”
“Kansas City?
New York?
New Orleans?
Chicago?”
“I’ve seen them all.”
“Ever been in jail?”
“I have, judge.
You knock around, you get in trouble with the cops now and then.
Yes sir, I’ve been in jail.”
“Ever been in jail in Tuscson?”
“Yes sir.
I think it was ten days I got there.
It was for trespassing on railroad property.”
“Salt Lake City?
San Diego?
Wichita?”
“Yes sir.
All those places.”
“Oakland?”
“I got three months there, judge.
I got in a fight with a railroad detective.”
“You beat him up pretty bad, didn’t you?”
“Well, as the fellow says, he was beat up pretty bad, but you ought to seen the other one.
I was beat up pretty bad, myself.”
“Los Angeles?”
“Once.
But that was only three days.”
“Chambers, how did you come to go to work for Papadakis, anyhow?”
“Just a kind of an accident.
I was broke, and he needed somebody.
I blew in there to get something to eat, and he offered me a job, and I took it.”
“Chambers, does that strike you as funny?”
“I don’t know how you mean, judge?”
“That after knocking around all these years, and never doing any work, or even trying to do any, so far as I can see, you suddenly settled down, and went to work, and held a job steady?”
“I didn’t like it much, I’ll own up to that.”
“But you stuck.”
“Nick, he was one of the nicest guys I ever knew.
After I got a stake, I tried to tell him I was through, but I just didn’t have the heart, much trouble as he had had with his help.
Then when he had the accident, and wasn’t there, I blew.
I just blew, that’s all.
I guess I ought to treated him better, but I got rambling feet, judge.
When they say go, I got to go with them.