"My buckskins are gone, sir, and no mistake," replied our gentleman. "I considered this a respectable honest house, sir, but it appears——"
This attack upon the respectability of the house made the landlord angry—it was a sore point.
"My house is respectable, sir—always has been respectable, sir—always will be, I trust. No gentleman ever lost his buckskins here before, sir. What they brought they have always taken away!"
"Why, sir!" exclaimed our gentleman, in a towering passion, "what do you mean to imply, sir? Do you suppose that a gentleman would come here without such an indispensable article of dress?"
"No, sir, no," replied the landlord, who cooled down as his adversary became excited; "I didn't mean to say that, sir."
"Then you'll just hear what I have to say, sir," replied our gentleman: "I'm not to be robbed in this barefaced way;—and the credit of your house, sir, is gone; for as soon as I arrive in town, I will write a letter to the Times, Chronicle, Herald, Post, and Morning Advertiser, stating the whole of the infamous transaction, and sign it with my own name, sir—with my own name; and then we shall see how long you are in a position to rob the public in this way. Yes, sir, and my lawyer shall send you a letter, as soon as I arrive in town, for an action of damages and recovery, sir."
Then our gentleman walked rapidly up and down the room, his shirt waving to and fro as if it was as much excited as himself.
"I'm very sorry, sir—very sorry," said the landlord; "but, sir, I have a pair of double-milled trousers which I think would fit you, so as to enable you to go to town, until the buckskins can be replaced."
"Double-milled! thank you, sir. You appear to consider my loss as only amounting to a pair of buckskins, Mr. Landlord; but who, sir, is to repay me the forty pounds and upwards, in bank-notes, which were in the pockets of my buckskins—heh! sir?"