"Your arrest, sir, on sight," says the Sheriff.
"The deuce! What's the charge!"
"Debt—false pretence—swindling!"
"Ha! ha! that is a good one!" says the slight'y cornered Ex-M. C.; "well, hang it, Sheriff, don't let business spoil our digestion; come, let us dine, and then I'm ready for execution!" says the "Western member," with well affected gaiety.
Stepping into a private room, they rang the bell, and a burly waiter appeared.
"Now, Mr. F.," says the adroit Ex-M. C., "call for just what you like; I leave it to you, sir."
"Roast ducks; what do you say, Buck?"
"Good."
"Oyster sauce and lobster salad?"
"Good," again echoes the Ex-M. C.