"Whoop!" roared Fritz, interrupting him.
"Stow yer gab!"
"Vos a yarn comin'?"
"That's none o' yer business, As I was assayin—"
But he got no farther.
Fritz grabbed his accordeon and began to play.
Tim paused with a look of pain and horror on his face.
"Haul to, thar!" he bellowed.
"I can't. I vos vound up ter 'blay dwendy-four hours," grinned Fritz, grinding away furiously.
"Gee whiz! Yer'll set me looney."