"
"You bet your sox," yelled the strange voice, in chorus with other
shouts of approval.
"O' course, I ain't no bettin' man," went on Bill, insinuatingly, "as a
regular thing, but I'd gamble a few jist here on this pint; if the boys
was stuck on anythin' costin' about seven hundred dollars, it seems to
me likely they'd git it in about two days, per'aps."
Here Robbie grunted out an "ay" of such fulness of contemptuous unbelief
that Bill paused, and, looking over Robbie's head, he drawled out, even
more slowly and mildly:
"I ain't much given to bettin', as I remarked before, but, if a man
shakes money at me on that proposition, I'd accommodate him to a limited
extent." ["Hear! hear! Bully boy!" yelled Hi again, from the door.] "Not
bein' too bold, I cherish the opinion" [again yells of approval from
the corner], "that even for this here Gospel plant, seein' The Pilot's
rather sot onto it, I b'lieve the boys could find five hundred dollars
inside ov a month, if perhaps these fellers cud wiggle the rest out ov
their pants."
Then Robbie was in great wrath and, stung by the taunting, drawling
voice beyond all self-command, he broke out suddenly:
"Ye'll no can mak that guid, I doot."
"D'ye mean I ain't prepared to back it up?"
"Ay," said Robbie, grimly.
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