what's more, you would testify against me, confound you. Also
probably have me up for assault and battery. No, Mr. Smilk, your
suggestion is not a good one. We will stick to the telephone. Now,
if you will be kind enough to fold your arms tightly across your
breast,--that's the idea,--and arise slowly to your feet, I will
instruct you--Yes, I know it is harder to get up without the aid of
the hands than it was to go down, but I think you can manage it. Try
again, if you please." Then, as Mr. Smilk sank sullenly back against
the wall, apparently resolved not to budge: "I'm going to count
three, Cassius. If you are not on your feet at the end of the count,
I shall be obliged to do the telephoning myself."

"That suits me," said Cassius grimly.

"Do you object to the smell of powder?"

"Huh?"

"I don't like it myself, but I should, of course, open the windows
immediately and air the room out--"

"I'll get up," said Cassius, and did so, clumsily but promptly.
"Say, I--I believe you WOULD shoot. You're just the kind of boob
that would do a thing like that."

"I dare say I should miss you if I were to fire all five
bullets,--but that's neither here nor there. You're on your feet,
so--by the way, are you sure this thing is loaded?"

"It wouldn't make any difference if it wasn't. It would go off just