I raised myself a good six inches from my chair, and Tress rubbed his
palms together with a chuckle. Bob alone was calm.
"Now," cried Tress, "you'll see the devil moving."
Bob took the pipe from between his lips.
"See what?" he said.
"Bob, you rascal, put that pipe back into your mouth, and smoke it for
your life!"
Bob was eying the pipe askance.
"I dare say, but what I want to know is whether this here varmint's dead
or whether he isn't. I don't want to have him flying at my nose--and he
looks vicious enough for anything."
"Give me back that pound, you thief, and get out of my house, and bundle."
"I ain't going to give you back no pound."
"Then smoke that pipe!"
"I am smoking it, ain't I?"
With the utmost deliberation Bob returned the pipe to his mouth. He
emitted another whiff or two of smoke.
"Now--now!" cried Tress, all excitement, and wagging his hand in the air.
We gathered round. As we did so Bob again withdrew the pipe.
"What is the meaning of all this here? I ain't going to have you playing
none of your larks on me. I know there's something up, but I ain't going
to throw my life away for twenty shillings--not quite I ain't."
Tress, whose temper is not at any time one of the best, was seized with
quite a spasm of rage.
"As I live, my lad, if you try to cheat me by taking that pipe from
between your lips until I tell you, you leave this room that instant,
never again to be a servant of mine.
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