[Shaking his head.]
Kid, it’s gonna cost me a lotta coin—an’ gee, w’at wouldn’t I do wit’ just a coupla dollars?—but youse a little gen’leman—see?—an’ ef anybody lays a finger on yuh, I’ll moider him!
[He casts a defiant glance at Slim, and claps his arm upon David’s shoulders in a rough accolade.]
Kid, youse a good sport—
[He bows grotesquely.]
—an’ I take me hat off to yuh! Yours truly, John W. Santa.
Slim
[Gasping.]
Youse gonna leave him here?
Bill