"
"The deuce you are! Here, Pugh, lend me a pound."
"I'm afraid I've left my purse behind."
"Then lend me ten shillings--Ananias!"
"I doubt if I have more than five."
"Then give me the five. And, Brasher, lend me the other fifteen."
Brasher lent him the fifteen. I doubt if we shall either of us ever see
our money again. He handed the pound to Bob.
"Here's the brandy--drink it up!" Bob drank it without a word, draining
the glass of every drop. "And here's the pipe."
"Is it poisoned, sir?"
"Poisoned, you villain! What do you mean?"
"It isn't the first time I've seen your tricks, sir--is it now? And you're
not the one to give a pound for nothing at all. If it kills me you'll send
my body to my mother--she'd like to know that I was dead."
"Send your body to your grandmother! You idiot, sit down and smoke!"
Bob sat down. Tress had filled the pipe, and handed it, with a lighted
match, to Bob. The fellow declined the match. He handled the pipe very
gingerly, turning it over and over, eying it with all his eyes.
"Thank you, sir--I'll light up myself if it's the same to you. I carry
matches of my own. It's a beautiful pipe, entirely. I never see the like
of it for ugliness. And what's the slimy-looking varmint that looks as
though it would like to have my life? Is it living, or is it dead?"
"Come, we don't want to sit here all day, my man!"
"Well, sir, the look of this here pipe has quite upset my stomach.
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