“Oh, yas, ya-as, sir.”
“Now those two pale face bonds were folded up with one other. Remember where you got them?” Pant’s eyes flashed through his thick glasses.
“No, no, Oh, ya-as, ya-as, sir, I do. It were dat ’ere white man; sellin’ tickets, he was.”
“Good! Now here’s a dollar. That’s for you. You’ll get another when you come back. You take these two pale face bonds to the ticket seller and ask him where he got them.”
“Ya-as, sir.”
Full of wonder at the strange doings of this odd fellow with the black glasses, Snowball hurried back to the ticket seller.
“Say, Mister,” he demanded, “whar’d y’ git these pale face bonds?”
“What?” The man stared at him.
“Whar y’ git ’em?” Snowball held them up for inspection.
“Let’s see.” The man made a grab for them.