"I suppose you know, old boy, that I got my discharge from these premises t'other day."
"Indeed!" returned the head-clerk, coldly, striking a match to light a cigar for himself.
"Yes, cleared out, within a fortnight, bag and baggage; all on account of that deuced little spree we had here the other night. By-the-by, Mr. Wilkins, I believe you have had a finger in this pie. How could you treat a fellow so?"
"I told you I would report you."
"Well, 'twasn't hardly fair, I vum. I didn't do more than the rest, but I suffer all alone. However, I don't bear anybody any ill will, and hope when we part it will be on good terms."
"I hope so, I'm sure."
"I've a bottle of prime old Port left of the other night; what say you to taking a drink this stormy time, to our future good friendship?"
"I've no objections—most certainly."
Quirk went to the other end of the store, and took a bottle and some glasses from under the counter. He filled three of the glasses, and handed one to each of his friends, and kept the other for himself.
"Here's oblivion to the past, and brightness for the future."