"Thanks, lady," replies Tim, elbowing me aside as he climbed aboard.
"Dust your feet," I whispered to Tony as he was about to climb in.
"Whatta you mean, dusta my feet?" shouted Tony wrathfully, "you go head an' dusta your feet! I look out for my feet all right."
"What did he want yer to do, Tony?" asked Tim in a loud voice.
"Dusta my feet," answered Tony, greatly injured.
"What yer doin', Oswald?" asks Tim sarcastically, "tryin' to drag us up?"
"I only spoke for the best," I answered, sick at heart.
"Ha! ha!" grated Tim, "guess you think we ain't never rode in one of these wealthy wagons before."
"Arn't you rather young?" asked the lady soothingly of the "Spider," who by virtue of his mechanical experience in civil life had been given a first class rating, "Arn't you rather young to have so many things on your arm?"
"Yes," answered the "Spider" promptly, "but I kin do a lot of tricks."