Pete. We's not gwine to ax 'em. 'Spects dey's all dead, anyhow. Dar won't be nuffin' to keep us from gittin' it, 'less de spirits put in dar 'pearance.
Billy. (frightened, drops spade) Spirits!
Pete. Yes, yo's not afraid ob dem, are yo'? I's often played wid dem behind de kitchen door (aside) in mince-pie season.
Billy. Oh, no, I'm not afeared. (trembles)
Pete. What's yo' shakin' fo'?
Billy. I'm not very well.
Pete. Kind o' weak-like, eh?
Billy. (doubtingly) Yaas.
Pete. Want somet'ing to make yo' strong, does yo'? (takes small flask from breast pocket, drinks, then passes it to Billy) Try dat, it's nervin'. (aside) Den if he sees somet'ing, dar'll be spirits widin an' spirits widout. (Billy takes flask and drinks. Pete watches him, and as the fluid disappears, grows uneasy) Hole on, dar.