“Yes,” I said, “of course. Perhaps we shall have watches some day.”
“Let’s save up and buy one between us, and you have it one week, and me the other.”
“But you wanted to save up and buy the gun that takes to pieces, so that we could go shooting.”
“Yes, so I did,” said Mercer—“so I do. But I should like that watch.”
“Perhaps he’ll get tired of it soon,” I said, “and want to sell it.”
“No; he isn’t that sort of fellow. He always sticks to his things, and you never know him give anything away. But, I say, it is a beautiful watch, isn’t it?”
“Yes; so new and bright. It was going, too.”
“Wish he’d lose it when he was jumping or playing cricket, and I could find it.”
“But you couldn’t keep it, if you did find it. You’d know it was his.”
“But perhaps I mightn’t know he’d lost it, and it was his. Then I might keep it, mightn’t I?”