Abney. He gesticulated for a moment in impassioned silence, his
arms throwing grotesque shadows on the gravel.

'How _dare_ you smoke, boy! How _dare_ you smoke that cigarette!'

'It's the only one I've got,' responded the Little Nugget amiably.

'I have spoken to you--I have warned you--Ten bad marks!--I will
not have--Fifteen bad marks!'

The Little Nugget ignored the painful scene. He was smiling
quietly.

'If you ask _me_,' he said, 'that guy was after something better
than plated spoons. Yes, sir! If you want my opinion, it was Buck
MacGinnis, or Chicago Ed., or one of those guys, and what he was
trailing was me. They're always at it. Buck had a try for me in the
fall of '07, and Ed.--'

'Do you hear me? Will you return instantly--'

'If you don't believe me I can show you the piece there was about
it in the papers. I've got a press-clipping album in my box.
Whenever there's a piece about me in the papers, I cut it out and
paste it into my album. If you'll come right along, I'll show you
the story about Buck now. It happened in Chicago, and he'd have
got away with me if it hadn't been--'

'Twenty bad marks!'