"Bucks? Hell, man, they're beans, bones—the things you won at roulette!"
"I won no such things at roulette," he gravely shook his head, adding slowly: "So I must agree, eh? Tres-bien! Yet I warn you that she will go back with me in spite of all my boy Jack can say in a week, or a year. It is inevitable—she can not possibly disobey! Come! You win for the moment, so we will drink, standing together for Azuria!"
"Standing for your grandmother," Tommy laughed. "No, you jolly old filbert, we stand for Jack and Sylvia, and don't you forget it! We'll use your vaunted authority, too, when the time comes to make that scoundrel surrender. Now let's get our arsenal in shape!"
Monsieur approved of this, entering into it with a boyish spirit, and for a long time we went over rifles and automatics, showing him their virtues, explaining the accuracy of their range, occasionally throwing one up to the shoulder and taking a quick aim over the sights, as fellows will who find them good companions.
"I'll lay you odds, Professor, that the barrels of some of this hardware get hot before night," Tommy said.
"Ah, I will not bet on such bloody business. You think we fight today?"
"Two to one on it," he answered; then giving my shoulder a slap that felt like the kick of a mule, he cried:
"So romance and adventure died with the war, did they? Oh, baby, what a shame!"