“Do you think you could?”
“Do I dink I good? Ja, I do drade in effery dings. I gom now to puy iffory und vedders. You shell me all you vedders, und I gif you good brice.”
“I have a very poor lot, Morgenstern, but I’ll sell them to you. Dyke and I have done very badly.”
“Zo? Bood you will zell do me. I zaid do myself I vould go und zee mein vrient Emzon und den bube. He zay I am honest man.—You droost me?”
“Of course,” said Emson frankly. “I know you for what you are, Morgenstern.”
The old man lowered his pipe, and held out his fat hand.
“I dank you, Herr Emzon,” he said, shaking his host’s hand warmly. “Id is goot do veel dot von has a vrient oud here in der desert land. Bood I am gonzern apout you, mein vrient. You haf peen very pad. You do look sehr krank; unt you zay you haf tone padly. I am moch gonzern.”
“We’ve been very unlucky,” said Emson, as the old man seated himself upon a block of granite, close to one of the ostrich-pens, while an old cock bird reached over and began inspecting his straw-hat.
“Zo I am zorry. Bood vy do you not dry somedings else? Hund vor skins or vor iffory? I puy dem all. Und not dry do keep den ostridge-bird in dem gage, bood go und zhoot him, und zell die vedders do me. Or der is anodder dings. Hi! You bube: did you dell den bruders apout den diamonts?”
“Oh yes, I told him,” said Dyke sadly; “but he has been so ill. I thought once he was going to die.”