“You get out!” shouted Mr. Tridge, passionately. “Else I’ll serve you like I did ’im!”
“Pooh, ’e was only shamming!” retorted Mr. Clark. “’E got up again and walked away soon as you’d gone.”
“Well, shut up, anyway!” ordered Mr. Tridge, with a warning scowl. “Don’t you think you’ve said more than enough already?”
“Them?” said Mr. Clark, glancing carelessly at Mr. Sinnett and Mr. Lock. “They don’t know nothing.”
“Oh, well, ’e didn’t get it, anyway!” declared Mr. Tridge.
“’E’ll get it all right in the end,” prophesied Mr. Clark, darkly. “You mightn’t get off so lucky next time.”
“’E’ll never get it,” stated Mr. Tridge, with dour confidence.
“Not if you deals fair by me,” said Mr. Clark. “P’r’aps he won’t, then, not against the two of us.”
“I’ve told you I ain’t sharing, once and for all!” bellowed Mr. Tridge.
“All right!” growled Mr. Clark. “You’ll be sorry. I could tell you something if I liked. Made me sit up when I ’eard it, anyway. Look ’ere, I give you fair warning—in future it’s either to be me and you, or me and ’im! Take your choice. Anyway, after what I’ve learnt to-night, I’m going to be in it, some-’ow!”