of you, Mr. Yollop."

"I'm inclined to grant almost any favor you may ask," said Mr.
Yollop, sympathetically. "I know how miserable you must feel,
Cassius, and how hard life is for you. Do you want me to shoot you?"

"No, I don't," exclaimed Mr. Smilk hastily. "I want you to take my
roll of bills and hide it before the police come. That ain't much to
ask, is it?"

"Bless my soul! How extraordinary!"

"There's something over six hundred dollars in the roll," went on
Cassius confidentially. "It ain't that I'm afraid the cops will grab
it for themselves, understand. But, you see, it's like this. The
first thing the judge asks you when you are arraigned is whether you
got the means to employ a lawyer. If you ain't, he appoints some one
and it don't cost you a cent. Now, if I go down to the Tombs with
all this money, why, by gosh, it will cost me just that much to get
sent to Sing Sing, 'cause whatever you've got in the shape of real
money is exactly what your lawyer's fee will be, and it don't seem
sensible to spend all that money to get sent up when you can obtain
the same result for nothin'. Ain't that so?"

"It sounds reasonable, Cassius. You appear to be a thrifty as well
as an honest fellow. But, may I be permitted to ask what the devil
you are doing with six hundred dollars on your person while actively
engaged in the pursuit of your usual avocation? Why didn't you leave
it at home?"