Ans Handerson’s eyes were shining unholily as he asked, “How much you tank you take?”
Bill and Kink did not hear him, and he was compelled to repeat his query. They appeared reluctant. He grew keener. And he swayed back and forward, holding on to the bar and listened with all his ears while they conferred together on one side, and wrangled as to whether they should or not, and disagreed in stage whispers over the price they should set.
“ Two hundred and—hic!—fifty,” Bill finally announced, “but we reckon as we won’t sell.”
“ Which is monstrous wise if I might chip in my little say,” seconded Bidwell.
“ Yes, indeedy,” added Kink. “We ain’t in no charity business a-disgorgin’ free an’ generous to Swedes an’ white men.”
“ Ay tank we haf another drink,” hiccoughed Ans Handerson, cr
