"Yes," replied Mr. Bouncer; "owe money. You know what owing money means, don't you? Have you any ticks in my name; because, if so, you had better say so at once. I can refer you to Stump and Rowdy, my bankers; and, I daresay, they 'll soon make it all square with you."
Thought the Doctor—Poor young man! his head wanders sadly! But he replied, "Pray do not agitate yourself, my dear young friend."
"Oh," said Mr. Bouncer, with scorn, "you need n't come the dear young friend dodge with me! I daresay you get your fifty per cent.; and, no doubt, you propose to take half of it out in bad pictures and worse claret! If you want me to fork out for anything that you 've got against me, I daresay Stump and Rowdy can find the cash, without my having to go to the Jews for it." Little Mr. Bouncer put in this home-thrust, because, in connection with the ideas to which he was giving expression, it suddenly occurred to him that his unknown bald-pated companion, with the very prominent nose, had something of the Hebrew in his countenance.
Dr. Dustacre was about to reply, as best he might, to Mr. Bouncer's observation, when there clattered past them a mail-phaeton and pair, driven by a young gentleman, beside whom an older gentleman was seated. Mr. Bouncer spied them at once, and quickly thrusting his head out of the window, before the broad-shouldered man could prevent the act, shouted, lustily, "Hoi! Smalls! stop! pull up! Bouncer! prisoner!" He was unable to say more that was audible to the occupants of the mail-phaeton, as the burly individual who had been addressed as Brand forcibly pulled him back to his seat.
