"I don't know what ye're talkin' about," he grumbled.
"Neither do I," Tom admitted cheerily. "My friend, I'm not going to
irritate you by pretending that I know more than you do. In fact, I
know less, for I have no idea what is about to happen to me here, and
that's something that you do know."
"No; I don't," glared his captor, "and I don't care what is going to
happen to you."
Back of the fringe between light and darkness steps were heard on the
cellar stairs. Then someone moved steadily forward until he came into
the light.
"Hello, Jim!" Tom called good-humoredly.
"Don't try to be too familiar with your betters, young man!" came the
stern reply.
"Oh, a thousand pardons, Mr. Duff," Tom amended hastily. "I didn't
intend to insult your dignity. Indeed, I am only too glad to find you
resolved to be dignified."
"If you try to get fresh with me," growled the gambler, "I'll knock your
head off."
"Call it a slap on the wrist, and let it go at that," urged Tom. "I'm
very nervous to-night, and a blow on the head might make me worse.
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