“—the sun sets at ten minutes to seven!”
“—lackin ' sixteen minutes forty-two seconds and a quarter,” pursued Robin, with head bent as if he were looking at a watch.
“Oh, you be hanged! Your old watch is always slow.”
“My watch? Dis heah watch?” He turned, buttoning his coat carefully. “You know whar dis watch come f'om?” He pressed his hand to his side and held it there.
“Yes, I know. Give me your money. It will help swell Carrier Pigeon's pile to-morrow.”
“Not unless he can fly,” said Robin.
“What 's his name!” The clerk had picked up his pen.
Robin scratched his head in perplexity.
“Le' me see. I 'mos' forgit. Oh, yes.” He gave the name.
“What! Call him 'J. D.'?”