In the after part of the day Bandy-legged Bill made his appearance.
“Well, old man, how goes it?” said the newcomer, in a whisper.
“All right so far. Have you got the trap with you?”
“Yes; I’ve put it up at a beershop close by here.”
Peace at this moment pulled out a good-sized barbel.
“My eye! but you’ve got a whopper there, Charlie, and no mistake,” cried the gipsy.
“Don’t call me Charlie. If anybody sees us you are my man—don’t you understand?”
“A nod’s as good as a wink to a blind horse. Your servant—I tumble,” returned Bill.
“I’m supposed to be a gentleman now,” said Peace, with a chuckle.
“Ah, I see; and you know how to play the part, which, to say the truth, is altogether beyond me. Howsomedever, I do very well for a slavey; nobody is likely to take me for a gentleman.”