He took it up and looked at it, and arter 'olding it to 'is ear put it down agin.
"Is that the flat-iron it's going to be smashed with?" he ses.
"It is," ses the conjurer, looking at 'im nasty like; "p'r'aps you'd like to examine it."
Bob Pretty took it and looked at it. "Yes, mates," he ses, "it's a ordinary flat-iron. You couldn't 'ave anything better for smashing a watch with."
He 'eld it up in the air and, afore anybody could move, brought it down bang on the face o' the watch. The conjurer sprang at 'im and caught at 'is arm, but it was too late, and in a terrible state o' mind 'e turned round to John Biggs.
"He's smashed your watch," he ses; "he's smashed your watch."
"Well," ses John Biggs, "it 'ad got to be smashed, 'adn't it?"
"Yes, but not by 'im," ses the conjurer, dancing about. "I wash my 'ands of it now."