“Thank you,” said I, touching my hat with the condescending air one occasionally employs to humiliate an inferior, by its mingled pride and courtesy; and I turned into the street.
“You ain't a-going to Hall's Court, are you?” said Kit, overtaking me.
“Of course not,” responded I, indignantly. “Such sights are anything but pleasurable.”
“He ain't all right, that 'un,” said Gauze-eyes, as old Kit re-entered the office, and I stepped back to listen.
“Well, I don't know,” muttered the other; “I 'm a-think-ing it be doubtful, sir. He ha' n't got much clink with him, that's a fact.”
“I have half a mind to send Chico up in the boat to-night, just to dodge him a bit.”
“Well, ye might do it,” yawned the other; “but Chico is such an almighty villain that he'll make him out a rogue or a swindler, at all events.”
“Chico is smart, that I do confess,” said the other, with a grin.
“And he do look so uncommon like a vagabond, too; Chico, I don't like him.”
“He can look like anything he pleases, Chico can. I've seen him pass for a Pawnee, and no one ever disciver it.”