I 'll be gosh gim-swiggled if I will.

There 's only four in my family and four 's all I 'm going to take.

Fork 'em over--I 've got a prescription to fill." He tossed four silver dollars on the showcase and took the tickets.

The girl demurred.
"But how about the fifth one?
I 've got to sell that too--" "Well, sell it to him!" And Fairchild, looking into the soda-fountain mirror, saw himself indicated as the druggist started toward the prescription case.

"I ain't going to let myself get stuck for another solitary, single one!" There was a moment of awkward silence as Fairchild gazed intently into his soda glass, then with a feeling of queer excitement, set it on the marble counter and turned.