“No,” cried a voice, appealing apparently from a decision that had been given, “I won’t pay without I see the inside.”
They were debating whether the portmanteaus were of buffalo or cow hide. They had caught sight of them as they were being carried through the kitchen into the back-room, and had at once seized upon them as good subjects for a bet. It was time for us to interfere, if we did not wish to see our trunks ripped open, for the sake of ascertaining the quality of the leather.
“Sixteen smalls,” cried Richards, “that it’s deer hide!”
“Done!” thundered half a score voices, with loud peals of laughter.
“It is a bet, then,” said my friend; “but let us see what we are betting about.”
“Make way for the gemmen!” cried the men.
“Our portmanteaus!” exclaimed Richards, laughing. “No, certainly, they are not deer hide. Here is my bet.”
A loud hurra followed the payment of the dollar which my friend handed over; and we now found ourselves in undisputed possession of our baggage. The next thing to be done was to endeavour to get the room to ourselves for a few minutes.
“We wish to be left alone for a short time,” said I to the help, who was bustling in and out, and covering the table with innumerable plates of preserved fruits, cucumbers, beet-root, and suchlike edibles.
I shut the door.