He rolled over on the bed and sat up on the edge and began to scratch around in his crummy hair that went every which way, and pretty soon he said, “You mean throw some games?” and I said, “Hell, no. You think I’d let dear old Pipskill down that way? We just miss enough to keep the score closer than the wise guys figured it, that’s all,” and he said, “It sounds dishonest to me,” and I said, “Well, isn’t that a crying damn shame! You sound like we’d have to lose the damn game or something. I told you we just missed enough to keep the score tight,” and he shook his head and scratched in his crummy hair some more and said, “Just the same, I’ll bet it’s considered crooked,” and I said, “Well, it may be considered crooked by a lot of unreasonable bastards, but what the hell of it, and the way I look at it is, it’s not crooked unless you really lose the damn game.”
He kept on sitting and scratching and thinking about it, and after a long time he said, “Who the hell’s putting out this dough?” and I said, “A guy who’s got it to put out, and that’s damn well all you’ll ever know unless you decide to come in,” and he said, “How much would we get?” and I said, “I don’t know yet, but it’ll be plenty to start with and even more later because this is big time stuff, and make up your God-damn mind one way or the other because I don’t intend to fool around with it forever, if you want to know the truth,” and he said, “Okay, Skimmer, count me in,” and I said, “Now you’re being smart, and what’s more, I just happen to remember an extra fin you can have to make hay with this damn doll, whoever she is.”
The next day I called Candy and told her I had to see her about the deal, and she asked why I couldn’t just tell her over the phone, but I said I’d rather not talk about it over the phone and if she didn’t want to see me about it she could damn well wait until my turn on the schedule came up, and she said, “Jesus Christ, you’ve got more tricks up your sleeve than a card sharp. Well, come on downtown tonight and get it over with,” so I went, and she was right, of course, and I didn’t mind talking about the deal over the phone at all but just wanted to get in an extra turn, which I did.
I went to the Gay Gander and had some drinks and shot the bull a little with Hershell Goans, and at eleven Candy came on to sing in a dress that damn near wasn’t there, and it’s the truth that I was pretty crazy about her and never got tired of her or wanted anyone else all the time I knew her, no matter how many extra turns I managed to get in. After she was finished, she went back to her room to change clothes, and everyone kept clapping for a while to get her to come back and sing some more, though mostly the guys probably just wanted to look at her, but she was pretty snotty about things like that and wouldn’t sing any longer than her half hour even if they beat their damn hands off. We had a drink together at the bar and went out to the Crosley and around to her apartment, and when we were up there she said, “Well, what’s the big news?” and I said, “Nothing except old Micky’s coming in,” and she said, “Why in hell couldn’t you have just said so over the phone?” and I said, “Well I could have said so, as a matter of fact, but there are other things you can’t do over a telephone,” and she threw her hands up in the air and said, “My God, Junior, you’re so insatiable,” which I found out later was just a way of saying I was hard as hell to satisfy.
She wasn’t sore, though, and as a matter of fact she wasn’t so damn easy to satisfy herself, and we wound up having some fun, and afterward she said, “Listen, Junior, you may not know it but Franzie Ketch owns the Gay Gander, and a lot of other people know it, even if you don’t, so now that you’ve closed your deal with him you better not come there any more,” and I said, “Why the hell not?” and she said, “If you’re so damn dumb you can’t see the reason, there’s no use trying to explain it. Just don’t come, that’s all.”
I could see the reason, all right, and said, “Well, where the hell shall I meet you when it’s my turn on the schedule?” and she said, “What’s the matter with this place?” and I said, “Not a damn thing as a matter of fact,” and she said, “All right, then. Now get the hell out of here and let me get some sleep,” and I did.
Out at Pipskill we started basketball practice, and you’d have thought after damn near seven months that old Umplett would have forgotten how we’d got our butts tromped in the national finals the season before just because the other team happened to be better than pistols, but I can damn sure tell you he hadn’t forgotten it, and he was sour and mean and had blood in his eye, and the truth is, he seemed to hate the guts of everyone on the team, especially mine, and I don’t mind admitting that I began to get a hell of a bang out of thinking how I was fooling him by being set up with Francis Z. Ketch to make something on the side. He worked the hell out of us, and if you fumbled a pass or missed a shot or slowed down under ninety miles an hour in the God-damn firehorse game we played, he’d stop the action and chew you out in that quiet way of his that was somehow a hell of a lot worse than if he’d bellowed at you like old Mulloy or someone, and all the time he was chewing he’d be looking at you with his little eyes all sick and sour in their sockets and his lips working around like his words had a lousy taste in his mouth, and if you want to know what I think, I think the son of a bitch was crazy, and in fact I’d bet on it.
He was a good coach, though. Like I said before, he was a damn good coach, and I can’t deny it. We got fast and slick and better than we’d been the year before, and even old Carboy smoothed out and got a little better with the hook, and when we had our first warmup game about a week after the football team wound up in the cellar as usual, there must have been fifteen thousand maniacs piled into the field house to see the team that everyone thought would be national champs sure this year, and certain people damn well knew we’d better be, including us and old Umplett, and after the game everyone thought so more than ever, especially the team we played, because we murdered them. After that we played another team that wasn’t any match for us, and then an outfit from the East breezed in on tour, and they were experienced and supposed to be damn good, and it turned out that this was the first game that Francis Z. Ketch wanted me and Micky to fix the point spread in. It was Candy who called me to pass the word, and I’ll tell you how it was.
I was at the frat house, and this guy called up from downstairs and said, “Telephone, Scaggs,” and I went down and answered, and it was Candy, and she said, “Hello, Junior. Well, it’s your turn on the schedule,” and I said, “I’m damn glad to hear it, but it’s the first time you ever called me to tell me so, and I’d like to know why,” and she laughed and said, “Not my schedule, Junior. Franzie Ketch’s schedule. You better come on downtown tonight and get the details,” and I said, “Well, since I’ve got to come downtown anyhow, you might as well work your schedule around to fit Franzie’s,” and she said, “Lord God, you can figure more angles than any engineer. Remember to come’ right to my place and not to the Gay Gander,” and I said I would and did.