"I know, but he's mighty uncomfortable. Can't sit down, maybe, and there may be flies and mosquitoes—"
"Naw," protested Mike. "He's just comfortable. If it was the style, I would like to have gone naked to-day."
"He'll have the police after youse," warned James, "as soon as he can reach the village."
"Sure he will. Gratitude is a flower," said Mike grandiloquently, "that I have never picked."
"And never will," added James with grim pessimism.
"That's all right," returned the Watermelon. "I ain't gathering any flowers this trip. Here's a ten-spot for each of you, and mind you do what I say."
"For you," said Mike, "I'd give me heart's blood."
"Where do we find this pond?" asked James.
"Come with me and I'll take you to the road that leads by it. You give me time to get to the hotel, though, before you give him his clothes."
"Trust me," said Mike, lovingly concealing the greenback in the dark dirty recesses of his rags.