Mitchell and
Loring vainly tried to quiet him.
"Weally, I shall be obwiged to wefeh you to my lawyehs----" Wyatt
began.
"Refer _me_--you animated outrage--you libel! Turn me loose, you
fellows! _I_ don't want to see _you_ or your durn lawyers! I know
what _you_ want, well enough. You want to bamboozle me into selling my
interest in the Copper-bottom for less than it's worth. Here's my last
word to you--Mr.--ah--White! If you want my fourth at forty thousand,
to-day, all right. It's worth more--it's paid from the grass-roots
down. But that'll make me the round six figures, and that's enough.
_I_ can make money--_I_ know _my_ little way about," he boasted, with
insufferable complacency.
"Nobody left me _my_ pile! Put up or shut up!"
"Mr. Wyatt," said Mitchell, "pardon me, but may I suggest that you
call at a more favorable time?" He made, behind Thompson's back, the
motion significant of an emptied glass.
"Aw! I see--I _see_! Thawnks awfully for the hint. Good-evening,
gentlemen--and--ah--Mistah Tomkins!"
Thompson broke away, shaking his fist in Wyatt's face. "Say that again
and I'll brain you--pawdon me, I should say, I'll smash your head in.
Thompson's my name--T-h-o-m-p-s-o-n, _T h o m p s o n_! And you trade
with me, now or never!"
"You see, gentlemen?" Wyatt appealed.
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