"Thanks!" said the physician, unimpressed.
"Look me in the eye." Bill spoke earnestly. "Twenty thousand iron men ain't so bad. It'll buy a lot of doll's clothes. We can have a big party—I ain't kidding!" Then reading amused incredulity in his friend's face he demanded: "How you know I ain't got a rich uncle that raised me from a colt and that broke his heart at me runnin' away and turning out wild, and has had lawyers gunnin' for me ever since he knew he was gettin' old and going to croak? How you know that, eh?"
"I don't know. I don't know anything about you, Bill. That's one of the most interesting features of our friendship."
"Well, pay a little attention to me. Now then, I figger it like this:
I got lungs like a grasshopper, and the money won't do me no good, so
I'll stake you and Miss Alice to it."
Doctor Thomas eyed the speaker curiously. "I believe you would," said he, after a moment.
"Would I? Say! You ever seen a feather bed tied up with a rope? You sit tight and I'll slip you a roll just that size."
"Of course you know I wouldn't take it?"
"Why not? It's more'n likely it'll get me into evil company or gimme some bad habit, and I'll gargle off before I've had a chance to spend it. I ain't strong."
"I'll earn what I get, Billy."
"All right. If you feel like that I'll bet it for you on a crap game, and you can take the winnings—"