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"Don't trust people unless they live in hovels like Claparon," said Gigonnet. "Hey! mein freint," said the fat Nucingen to du Tillet, "you haf joust missed blaying me a bretty drick in zenting Pirodot to me. I don't know," he added, addressing Gobenheim the manufacturer, "vy he tid not ask me for fifdy tousand francs. I should haf gif dem to him."
Bean gulped once, it is true, before words would come. "I uh what's the price of that dog in the window?" The old man removed his spectacles, ran a hand through upstanding white hair, and regarded his questioner suspiciously. "You vant him, hey? Vell, I tell. Fifdy dollars, you bed your life!" The blood leaped in his veins. He had expected to hear a hundred at least.
Schimmelpodt, a wealthy old German contractor, rose from his seat, shouting hoarsely: "Bresgott I gif fifdy tollars by dot Athletic Committee bis you win der game vor Gridley!" The offer brought a laugh and a cheer. Schimmelpodt rarely threw away money. Dick, smiling confidently, stood bat in hand. Most other boys might have felt nervous with so much depending on them.
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