"I want you to do something for me," he remarked, in a mysterious voice.
"Ah, I've been wanting to see you," said Smith, who was also a dealer in a small way. "One o' them hins I bought off you last week is dead."
"I'll give you another for it," said Miller.
"And the others are so forgetful," continued Mr. Smith.
"Forgetful?" repeated the other.
"Forget to lay, like," said Mr. Smith, musingly.
"Never mind about them," said Mr. Miller, with some animation. "I want you to do something for me. If it comes off all right, I'll give you a dozen hins and a couple of decentish-sized pigs."
Mr. Smith called a halt. "Decentish-sized" was vague.
"Take your pick," said Mr. Miller. "You know Mrs. Pullen's got two thousand pounds—"
"Wiggett's going to have it," said the other; "he as good as told me so."