Drake guessed at once. “Not Baby Bunting? Oh, Lord! and I promised to give you an adult weapon!—the kind they're wearing now by way of full-dress.”
“Talkin' secrets, boss?” said Half-past Full.
The well-meaning Sam filled his cup, and this proceeding shifted the buccaroo's truculent attention.
“What's that mud?” he demanded.
“Coffee,” said Sam, politely.
The buccaroo swept his cup to the ground, and the next man howled dismay.
“Burn your poor legs?” said Half-past. He poured his glass over the victim. They wrestled, the company pounded the table, betting hoarsely, until Half-past went to the floor, and his plate with him.
“Go easy,” said Drake. “You're smashing the company's property.”
“Bald-headed china for sure, boss!” said a second of the brothers Drinker, and dropped a dish.
“I'll merely tell you,” said Drake, “that the company don't pay for this china twice.”