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"Yes; try it, Monroe; you can get some one; can't you?" said Peter, with an extra bang on his fat leg as an extra emphasis to his seriousness.
"I've never met my Fate--that is, no Fate that would care to take me,"
he remarked, with the smile gone.
"How about Jarney's girl?" asked Peter, in a confidential tone.
"That young chap, Winthrope, seems to have the way to her door all to himself," responded the gloomy one.
"Who did you say?"
"Winthrope."
"I told you to get him out of the way."
"Well?"
"Well?"
"He can't be got out so easy," cried Monroe, with asperity. "He's an immovable, unapproachable, indefinable young cuss, who can't be inveigled."
"Have you given it up?"
"Oh, not yet."
"What you leading up to now?" asked Peter.
"To have the boss send him to the New York office."
"Will he send him?"
"He may."
"Say," said Peter, whisperingly, with an idea, "get him in the bribing line, and then let him drop."
"He's beyond that," said the undaunted Monroe. "We are going to send him to New York; give him authority to handle money, and lay our net to catch him. This can be done. We will work it so slick, with Bate Yenger as his a.s.sistant, that he can't crawl out; and we'll keep the money for our trouble."
"Good!" said Peter, forgetting himself and rubbing this time. "Go on?"
"That's all."
"Humph;" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Peter. "You are a genuine dough-G.o.d!"
"You bear!" scowled Monroe--that is, he tried to scowl.
"You unplastic scoundrel," shouted Peter, turning on him, "if you don't get him out of the way, and get that girl, I'll get your job away from you!"
"Oh, no more of your jollying," said the putty-faced Monroe; "get down to business. How much do I get out of the swag I get with the girl?"
"Half," replied Peter.
"Well, it's worth trying for," said Monroe.
"Say, by the by, Monroe; I received this today from Europe. Read it,"
said Peter, handing Monroe a letter, which had the following P. S. at the end: "I have lost fifteen at Monte Carlo; send ten, or I will return at once. (Signed) J. D."
"Does he mean fifteen thousand and ten thousand?" asked Monroe.
"He does."
"What will you do?"
"Send for Jacob Cobb."
"What will he do?"
"Furnish the money, of course."
"Jim Dalls is bleeding you for all the game is worth," said Monroe.
"We can do nothing else till we cease bleeding other people."
"You are plain about it, Peter."
"I am always plain, Monroe."
"Have you seen Cobb lately?" asked Monroe.
"Yesterday."
"How're things coming?"
"They're coming for the present," answered Peter. "Don't you think I need them coming to keep up this establishment when I am fully in the swim?"
"You probably do, Peter. I will run opposition to you when I get what's coming to me."
"Be sure you don't get into the Pen, Monroe," said Peter, looking up sidewise at Monroe, with a strange meaning in his eyes.
"And you?" asked Monroe.
"Oh, they can't get me; too much pull with the--"
Just then a howling brat, in silks and satins, came tearing into the room, riding a bra.s.s curtain pole as his "horse." On seeing a stranger, the youngster promptly made a flail out of the said curtain pole, and began to belabor Peter over the head with such effectiveness that Peter caught the child by the seat of his breeches, and hurled him blubbering into a corner.
"I thought you enjoyed your new existence," humorously remarked the staid Monroe.
"I do," answered the angered Peter, with a "humph."
"Well, if that is an example of what married life is, I don't think I want any of it in mine," said Monroe, with some dejection in the curl of his lips.