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First published January 1, 1958
Big Smiley leaned across the bar and grabbed the red-eyed knifeman by the lapels of his mackinaw and lifted him from the floor.
“Gimme that chiv, shorty, ‘fore I makes you eat it,” he said lazily, smiling as though it were a joke.
The knifeman twisted in his grip and slashed him across the arm. The white fabric of his jacket slevve parted like a burst balloon and his black-skinned muscles opened like the Red Sea ….
Big Smiley draw back and reached beneath the bar counter with his right hand. He came up with a short-handled fireman’s axe. It had a red handle and a honed, razor-sharp blade.
The little knifeman jumped into the air and slashed at Big Smiley again, matching his knife against Big Smiley’s axe.
Big Smiley countered with a right cross with the red-handled axe. The blade met the knifeman’s arm in the middle of its stroke and cut it off just below the elbow as though it had been guillotined.
The severed arm in its coat sleeve, still clutching the knife, sailed through the air, sprinkling the nearby spectators with drops of blood, landed on the linoleum tile floor, and skidded beneath the table of a booth.
The little knifeman landed on his feet, still making cutting motions with his half arm.

"The white manager stood on top of the bar and shouted, 'Please remain seated, folks. Everybody go back to his seat and pay his bill. The police have been called and everything will be taken care of.'The super-hard-boiled Harlem detectives, Grave Digger Jones and Coffin Ed Johnson, are back on the job again when a big Greek dude gets shot and killed by a fake gun in the middle of a crowded street in Harlem, causing all hell to break loose. After Coffin Ed gets suspended for blasting his .38 all over 128th Street when some little gangster throws perfume at him (Coffin Ed had a little run-in with some acid a while back), Grave Digger investigates the case solo. Throughout the course of one night, he discovers that there is more to the case that he originally thought, and it seems like all connections lead to some young hookers and a gang that calls themselves the Real Cool Moslems.
As though he'd fired a starting gun, there was a race for the door."
"The joint was jammed with colored people who'd seen the big man die, but nobody seemed to be worrying about it.Once again, an entertaining read from the great Chester Himes.
The jukebox was giving out with a stomp version of 'Big-Legged Woman.' Saxophones were pleading; the horns were teasing; the bass was patting; the drums were chatting; the piano was catting, laying and playing the jive, and a husky female voice was shouting:
'...you can feel my thigh
But don't you feel up high.'
Happy-tail women were bouncing out of their dresses on the high bar stools.
Grave Digger trod on the sawdust sprinkled over the bloodstains that wouldn't wash off and parked on the stool at the end of the bar."