tales of the hotel st crispian: chapter 96

"Kid Conrad"

by Horace P. Sternwall 

edited by Dan Leo*  

illustrations by roy dismas and rhoda penmarq

Frisco Johnny Ramirez took an envelope out of his inside suit-jacket pocket. The envelope had been folded four times, and he unfolded it and then poured a white powder out of it onto the little ormolu table between his arm chair and Conrad’s.

“You don’t mind, do you kid? I like a little snow now and then to give me a little lift, a little pick-me-up on top of the booze.”

“I could ask Williams to make us some fresh coffee if you like,” said Conrad.

“No thank you, Conrad,” said Johnny. “You see, I drink too much coffee it gives me gas.”

“I understand,” said Conrad.

“You like a line, pal?”



“A line?”

“Of snow. The Bolivian marching powder. The Big C.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny,” said Conrad. “You must forgive me, but I suppose I have lived a rather sheltered life. So, to be honest I have no idea what you’re talking about, in what I can only suppose is a sort of netherworld argot or patois.”




(Please click here to read the entire sordid chapter.)