“What about the rare satsuma piece you wished onto me?” demanded Ted.
“And that cloisonne flower vawse that has a crack in it?” Thad wanted to know.
“That’s because it’s so old,” whined Ikey. “It is more valuable.”
“There’s one in the window without a crack for three dollars less,” was the retort.
“Oh, well, if you fellows are dissatisfied with your bargains——”
“Oh, we’re not going to back down,” said Andy, “but we’re not going to pay more than they’re worth, either. It was a plant, and you know it. Now you shell out all we paid above what the things are marked at in this window, and we’ll call it square—that is, if you don’t go around blabbing how you took us in.”
“All right! All right!” cried Ikey. “I’ll do it, only let me go!”
“No; pay first! Run him over to our rooms,” suggested Dunk. They were not far from the quadrangle, and catching hold of Ikey they ran him around into High Street and through the gateway beside Chittenden Hall to Wright. There, up in Andy’s and Dunk’s room, Ikey was made to disgorge his cash. But they were merciful to him and only took the difference in price.
“Now you tell us how it happened, and we’ll let you go,” promised Andy.
“It was all Hashmi’s fault,” declared Ikey. “I believed him when he said his brother in Japan had sent him a box of fine vawses. Hashmi said he didn’t need ’em all, and I said maybe we could sell ’em. So I did.”