"Pretty well, I think!"
"A long time, sir—"
"Yes, Ab."
"And when I was up and you down—"
"Yes, go on."
"I gave you a chance to keep your head above water."
"True enough, Ab, my boy."
"Now, sir, I want you to give me charge of the bar again, and I'll off coat and go to work like a Trojan."
"Ab Hart," said Smith, "when you came to me, you was so green you could hardly tell a crossed quarter from a bogus pistareen—the 'run of the till' you learnt in a week, while in less than a month you was the best hand at 'knocking down' I ever met! There's fifty dollars, you and I are square; we will keep so—go!"
Poor Absalom was beat at his own game, and soon left for parts unknown.