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At the moment there was a dearth of trade, and the round-faced little German who had weathered all the Angelic storms was discovered shaving himself before a triangular bit of looking-glass, stuck up on the packing-box which served him by turns as a desk and a dressing-case. "How you vas, Mr. Litchervood?" was his greeting, offered while the razor was on the upward sweep.
"You are afraid of Hallock's friends as you were afraid of Rufford and his friends. But you must do your sworn duty." "Nein, nein, dot ain'd it," was the earnest denial. "Bud bud nobody vould serve a warrant on Mr. Hallock, Mr. Litchervood! "I'll find some one to serve it," said the complainant curtly, and Schleisinger made no further objections.
When it came to the filling in of Hallock's name, Schleisinger stopped, open-mouthed. "Donnerwetter!" he gasped, "you don'd mean dot, Mr. Litchervood; you don'd neffer mean dot?" "I am sorry to say that I do; sorrier than you or any one else can possibly be." "Bud bud " "I know what you would say," interrupted Lidgerwood hastily.
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