as my wife and I were coming down here, and he told me quite a good deal about Mr. Tinker's capers on the steamer. You'll have to look out for him!"
Tinker protested with an affectation of jocosity, under which a keener ear than Mr. Shuler's might have detected a little genuine alarm: "Now, that'll be enough, Mr. Shuler. Our friend Wackstle's a splendid man—just splendid in every way—except he's never spoken a word of truth since he was born. Listen! When that Wackstle came into the smoking-room and said it was a nice bright day outside, everybody there would send for their rain-coats. Listen! I've always believed George Washington was dead, but if Charlie Wackstle said he was, I'd telegraph to Mount Vernon and tell George I was comin' to visit him! Listen! If Charlie Wackstle ever told the truth in his life" He paused. An Arab servant stood before him, offering him a small white envelope. "What's that? For me? I don't know anybody here." However, he accepted the missive and opened it.
Mr. Shuler cackled gayly. "Billy-dues already! It's certainly a little suspicious how heavy he puts it on about Wackstle being such a prevaricator. You'll have to keep your eye on him, Mrs. Tinker!"
