"Haven't you worked on shinbones and heavenly hopes before?" inquired the busy leader of the partnership. "And that reminds me, Algy, what about you?" he added to the Chinese cook. "We can't afford a tippe-bob-royal chef of your dimensions after this. I guess you'll have to poison somebody else." "What's mallah you, Van?" Algy demanded aggressively. "You makee me velly sick.
Bone came to the rescue without delay. "You kin have my saloon, and not a cent of cost," said he. "Bully fer Bone!" said several of the men. "Y-e-s, but would it be just the tip-toppest, tippe-bob-royal of a place?" inquired Field, a little cautiously. "What's the matter with it?" said Bone. "When it's church it's church, and I guess it would know the way to behave!