"Up-stairs the old gent had the money ready for me to count.
"'Correct?' says he.
"'Ya-a-as,' says I.
"'Well, I'll put 'em in a neat bundle for you,' says he. When that was done I handed my precious gold over.
"'Now, come here and have one last drink of satisfaction,' says my friend. I turned to the table and imbibed my last tonic at his expense.
"'Here you are, sir,' says the little old man, handin' me my package. 'And much obliged to you; only remember this: Secret Service men is all about; don't open her till you get safely in your room—mind that, now! Good-day.'
"Down the steps I goes, ker-thump, ker-thump. But when I reached the street I begun to wonder to myself if I hadn't better just see what those fellers would do next—no harm in ketchin' on to as many city ways as possible—so I hid under the stoop till they come out, glancin' sharp this way and that, but missin' Ezekiel George Washington.
"Up the street they skips; me after 'em, soon's I could, safe. Round the corner they goes. Me, too. And then they sasshays into a joolry shop. Here I thought I'd stay outside.
"My friend, after some talk, passes a big nugget over the counter. The joolryman he bores into it with a file and hands it back. You never see a face more contemshus than his'n. Then some kind of argyment broke out, arms a-wavin'; windin' up by the joolryman raspin' pretty near every nugget in the heap. Each pass his face got more contemshus yet. Finally he swept the whole business back in the bag, throws it at 'em and intimates they can leave at any time.
"They left. I never heard such language in my life! It ortn't be allowed in a large city. Why, that friend of mine, he heaved the bag of nuggets in the gutter and he raised up his hands, and just as sure as I sit here tellin' you about it, friends and brothers, he made a Fourth-of-July speech five minutes long, and never repeated himself once! I wouldn't go near him, feelin' in his excited state of mind it might lead to trouble. The little old man at last dragged him away.