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When they had reached the privacy of Mr. Worth's room, the old plainsman and the Irishman stood as if each waited for the other to begin. "Well, men," said Jefferson Worth. "What is it?" "Go on, ye owld oysther," growled Pat to Tex. "Why the hell don't ye tell the boss what we've come to tell him. Shpake up." Texas Joe cleared his throat and began formally: "I don't reckon, Mr.
"Gintlemen," said Finigan, now staggering down towards the parties, "I am a man of pacific principles, acquainted wid the larned languages, wid mathematics, wid philosophy, the science of morality according to Fluxions I grant you, I'm not college-bred; but, gintlemen, I never invied the oysther in its shell for, gintlemen, I'm not ashamed of it, but I acquired I absorbed my laming, I may say, upon locomotive principles."
What Saloo has got in his arms, if I'm not mistaken, is an oyster." "An oysther? Two fut in length and over one in breadth. Why, it's as much as the Malay can carry. Don't yez see that he's staggerin' under it?" "Very true; but it's an oyster for all that. I'm now sure of it, as I can see its shape, and the great ribs running over it.
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