"The law department must be connected in series with the mine machinery," said I, "and shuts off with the same switch. Do we get this on a foul?"
"Oh, nothing foul!" said he. "Default, you see—"
"No showup at ringside," said I; "9 to 0? How about bets?"
"Everything is all right," said he, looking as worried. "We'll sell the mine, and make the judgments!"
"And get the Golden Fountain," said I, "on an Irish pit boss and a Swede's spine?"
"Certainly," said he, "if they don't redeem."
"Show me," said I; "I'm from Missouri! It's too easy to be square. She won't pan!"
"Dat bane hellufa pile money f'r vidder," said Pete when we were alone. "Ten thousan' f'r Brady, an' twelf f'r spine! Ay git yob vork f'r her in mine!"
"You wild Skandihoovian," said I, "that's your spine!"
"Mae spine?" he grinned. "Ay gass not! Dat leg-yerkin' bane only effidence. Dat spine bane vidder's!"