“Tod Nodder,” says he.
“What about him? Tod Nodder hain’t no reason for pokin’ me black and blue.”
“Who was he always loafin’ around with?”
“Why, George Piggins!” says I.
“Never seen one without the other, did you?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Well?” says he.
“Well yourself,” says I, “and see how you like it.”
“I mean,” says he, “that if anybody in the world knows where George is, the feller is Tod Nodder.”
“Maybe so, but what does that git us?”