Bill. And where's Schmidt?
Policeman. He's in jail.
Bill. In jail?
Policeman. Sure, the firemen smelled kerosene.
Bill. Holy smoke! The poor old Dutchie! He set fire to his place!
Policeman. That's what they say. I wasn't here.
Bill. Well, I'll be switched! If I'd been here I might a' got some charlotte russes!
Policeman. With kerosene on them, belike! (Starts Right.)
Bill. Say, mister! Youse know that guy that was waiter here?
Policeman. Yes.