Benson never had no use fer me.

An' he up an' said he wouldn't give a two-bit piece fer my life.

I asked him why.
"'You're double-crossin' the boss an' Chess,' he said.
"'Jack, what 'd you give fer your own life ?' I asked him.
"He straightened up surprised an' mean-lookin'.

An' I let him have it, plumb center! He wilted, an' the greasers run.

I reckon I'll never sleep again.