“No, sir — it ain’t no cinch, lemme tell ya. This life’s all leg-work. We don’t get no steady pay, not by the day nor the week — it’s by the message, an’ that means you’re on the jump all the time. Soon as I dump one off, I’m tearin’ back to the office for another.

“Two bits an’ a half is what I get for each one I sling, an’ if I tote back an answer for the wire, that’s three more cents in my pocket. That’s why I’ll hang around for a reply — I ain’t no chump.

“A boy that drags his feet or lays down on the job won’t make nothin’, but a hustler like me? I clean up. I knock out thirty messages a day if my legs hold. That’s near twenty miles on the hoof, an’ don’t forget the stairs — an’ New York’s lousy with ’em. Offices from the street clear up to the sixth, seventh floor, an’ you gotta hoof it every step.”