"Wal, naow! that's what I was goin' ter speak abeout," said Walky, with sudden vigor. "Janice, here, an' me hev been havin' an argyment right along about that rum sellin' business——"
"About the drinking, at any rate, Walky," interposed Janice, gently.
"Wal—ahem!—ya-as. About the drinkin' of it, I s'pose. Yeou said, Janice, that my takin' a snifter now and then was an injury to other critters as well as to m'self."
"And I repeat it," said the girl confidently.
"D'ye know," jerked out Walky, with his head on one side and his eyes screwed up, "that I b'lieve Josephus agrees with ye?"
"Ho! ho!" laughed Marty. "Was you fresh from Lem Parraday's bar when you backed the old feller over the dock?"
"Wal, I'd had a snifter," drawled Walky, his eyes twinkling. "Anyhow, I'm free ter confess that I don't see how I could ha' done sech a fullish thing if I hadn't been drinkin'—it's a fac'! I never did b'lieve what little I took would ever hurt anybody. But poor ol' Josephus! He might ha' been drowned."
"Oh, Walky!" cried Janice. "Do you see that?"
"I see the light at last, Janice," solemnly said the expressman. "I guess I'd better let the stuff alone. I dunno when I'd git a hoss as good as Josephus——"
"No nearer'n the boneyard," put in Marty, sotto voce.