"I just bought it to day. Lost my old one
the night we give Farnham the shiveree."
"Lemme see it." Offitt took it in his hand and balanced and tested it.
"Pretty good hammer. Handle's a leetle thick, but--pretty good hammer."
"Ought to be," said Sam. "Paid enough for it."
"Where d'you get it?"
"Ware & Harden's."
"Sam," said Offitt,--he was still holding the hammer and giving himself
light taps on the head with it,--"Sam."
"Well, you said that before."
Offitt opened his mouth twice to speak and shut it again.
"What are you doin'?" asked Sleeny. "Trying to catch flies?"
"Sam," said Offitt at last, slowly and with effort, "if I was you, the
first thing I did with that hammer, I'd crack Art Farnham's cocoa-nut."
"Well, Andy, go and crack it yourself if you are so keen to have it
done. You're mixing yourself rather too much in my affairs, anyhow,"
said Sam, who was nettled by these too frequent suggestions of Offitt
that his honor required repair.
"Sam Sleeny," said Offitt, in an impressive voice, "I'm one of the kind
that stands by my friends. If you mean what you have been saying to me,
I'll go up with you this very night, and we will together take it out
of that aristocrat.
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