Prologue

I bet they were sorry to see you go. You look like the kind of a man men would like. And girls, too.

I don’t go around much with girls.

I don’t go much with men, either.

Neither do I. It’s comfortable in here, ain’t it? Like being home. I never been in a parlor car before.

My brother always insists on me riding in it. He says the day coach is generally dirty, for one thing⁠—and another thing, the men that ride in the day coach are the kind that try and make up to pretty girls. That sounds like I was throwing a bouquet at myself, but I’m just repeating what Dick said. That’s my brother’s name, Dick. I guess a brother always thinks their sister is good-looking.

I believe in a man sticking up for their sister, or any woman. I got no use for a man that don’t respect woman’s hood. Where would a man be if it wasn’t for their mothers and sisters and wives?

Some men haven’t got wives.

I haven’t got one myself⁠—yet. I ain’t been lucky enough to meet a woman who would be a good pal as well as a sweetheart. I want my wife to be like mother used to be.