"Tell me what you'll take."

"Make? I don't make _nothing_. Too blame clever."

"What will you _take?_"

"Oh! I got enough already,--half drunk now."

"What will you take for the 'ouse?"

"You want to buy her?"

"I don't know,"--(shrug),--"may_be_,--if you sell it cheap."

"She's a bully old house."

There was a long silence. By and by old Charlies commenced--

"Old Injin Charlie is a low-down dog."

"_C'est vrai, oui!_" retorted the Colonel in an undertone.

"He's got Injin blood in him."

"But he's got some blame good blood, too, ain't it?"

The Colonel nodded impatiently.

"_Bien!_ Old Charlie's Injin blood says, 'sell de house, Charlie, you