He stuffed the note in the envelope, slobbered on the glue, pounded it shut and waddled off to look for a mailbox.
When he came back Jim Finger had finished unpacking and was hanging pop-art posters on the walls of the room, each with the message BEAT THE QUEEN! Pat noticed that Jim had selected the dresser with the uncracked mirror and had chosen all the wooden hangers in the closet, leaving Pat a few bent wire ones with sloping shoulders.
Pat O'Sullivan Pinkerton started unpacking. He had mounted some particularly rich food pictures from the pages of Woman's Day on stiff paper, but he felt too sad to hang them. He had found earlier that he could only truly enjoy them—without envy—on a full stomach. A glimpse of them in his suitcase was too hard to take, and he quickly flipped them upside down and stuffed an overcoat on top of them. Besides, Jim Finger would have made rotten remarks about them.
Young One-Point-Two-Five had unrolled an oilcloth diagram—six feet wide and four feet high—and had tacked it on the far wall of the room opposite the window. It represented the opening of a hockey goal cage. He fastened a big bell to the wall in each corner of the diagram and attached two smaller bells—one just where the goalie's head would be when he was bent over in position head-on, the other where his skates would be in center-goal position. Each bell represented a difficult spot to defend in goaltending. Jim Finger then slowly put on his goalkeeper's equipment, all 28 pounds of it—body pads, shoulder pads, arm pads, overstuffed leg pads, mammoth gloves—the works, except for skates. He took his stick and practiced a few splits in front of the diagram of the cage. He felt the limits of the diagram with his great gloves. Pat O'Sullivan Pinkerton was trying to ignore all this, but without much success.
Jim Finger took six beanbags from his bottom dresser drawer, tossed them to Pat and said, "O.K., Porko Baby, try ringing a bell with one of these bean-bags. Stand over there by the window. Wing 'em in, Fats Baby. Sneak up on me if you want. Wing 'em in. Be cunning, be fast, be mean! Ring those bells, Popbutton Baby, ring those bells!"
"What kind of beans are in these bags?" Pat asked.
Jim Finger exploded. "Well, that beats all!" he screamed "You eat one of my bags and I'll stick you like a pig, understand?"
"What, do you think I am?" Pat O'Sullivan Pinkerton asked.
"You are what you are, all 10 tons of you," Jim shouted back. "What kind of beans?" he muttered under his breath. "That's gotta beat all!"