“No.”
“But suthin’ must ’a’ been intended. You wouldn’t want no crim’nal, nor no wife-beater, nor no—aw—person addicted to intoxicants to enter, now would you. Eh?... What?”
“Naturally not.”
“If a contestant was sich, what would happen?”
“It would be necessary to eliminate him.”
“Cheerio! What price the elimination!”
“What do you mean, Mr. Bogardus?”
“I mean,” said he, “there’s a feller goin’ to be eliminated doggone quick. An’ mebby go to jail to boot.”
“This is rather a serious thing to say.”
“Meant serious. Nobody kin claw me and git away with it. Nobody kin set up to be better dressed ’n I be, by Jove!—aw—and git away with it. I been watchin’, I have, and what I suspected I found out. And I’ll swear to it. Eh? What say? Now what, Lancelot, old dear?”