He seemed a little bit embarrassed, however, as to how to open conversation. He hummed and hawed and was visibly uneasy. He tried to descant upon the weather, but the subject failed him. Finally, with an effort, he hitched his chair nearer to his host's and said in a low voice, "Ike, I reckon you has de confidence of Mistah Scatters?"
"I has," was the proud reply, "I has."
"Hum! uh! huh! Well—well—has you evah loant him any money?"
Isaac was aghast. Such impertinence!
"Mistah Dunkin," he began, "I considah——"
"Hol' on, Ike!" broke in Dunkin, laying a soothing hand on the other's knee, "don' git on yo' high hoss. Dis hyeah's a impo'tant mattah."
"I ain't got nothin' to say."
"He ain't never tol' you 'bout havin' nothin' but Cubian money on him?"
Isaac started.
"I see he have. He tol' me de same thing."