"Yes."
"And you don't think that there is any mistake about it?"
"No."
"Well, then, as one who has been compelled to love you, I will buy you a drink."
"Good stuff. Say, Whit, touch the bell over there, will you?"
"Touch it yourself, you lout!"
With a profane avowal that he had never struck so lazy a party, Flummers rang the bell, and when the boy appeared, he called with hearty hospitality: "See what the gentlemen will have."
"Would you like something more?" Henry asked of Flummers, when the drinks had been served.
"Oh, I've just had one. But wait a minute. Say, boy, bring me a cigar."
When the cigar was brought, Flummers said, "That's the stuff!" and a moment later he broke out with, "Say, Witherspoon, why don't you kill the geyser that does the county building for your paper?"