'lieve I know whar five hundred dollars mebbe cud
per'aps be got."

"You bet your sox," yelled the strange voice, in chorus with other
shouts of approval.

"O' course, I ain't no bettin' man," went on Bill, insinuatingly, "as a
regular thing, but I'd gamble a few jist here on this pint; if the boys
was stuck on anythin' costin' about seven hundred dollars, it seems to
me likely they'd git it in about two days, per'aps."

Here Robbie grunted out an "ay" of such fulness of contemptuous unbelief
that Bill paused, and, looking over Robbie's head, he drawled out, even
more slowly and mildly:

"I ain't much given to bettin', as I remarked before, but, if a man
shakes money at me on that proposition, I'd accommodate him to a limited
extent." ["Hear! hear! Bully boy!" yelled Hi again, from the door.] "Not
bein' too bold, I cherish the opinion" [again yells of approval from
the corner], "that even for this here Gospel plant, seein' The Pilot's
rather sot onto it, I b'lieve the boys could find five hundred dollars
inside ov a month, if perhaps these fellers cud wiggle the rest out ov
their pants."

Then Robbie was in great wrath and, stung by the taunting, drawling
voice beyond all self-command, he broke out suddenly:

"Ye'll no can mak that guid, I doot."

"D'ye mean I ain't prepared to back it up?"

"Ay," said Robbie, grimly.

"'Tain't likely I'll be called on; I guess $500 is safe enough," drawled
Bill, cunningly drawing him on. Then Robbie bit.

"Oo ay!" said he, in a voice of quiet contempt, "the twa hunner wull be
here and 'twull wait ye long eneuch, I'se warrant ye."

Then Bill nailed him.

"I hain't got my card case on my person," he said, with a slight grin.

"Left it on the pianner," suggested Hi, who was in a state of great
hilarity at Bill's success in drawing the Scottie.

"But," Bill proceeded, recovering himself, and with increasing suavity,
"if some gentleman would mark down the date of the almanac I cherish the
opinion" [cheers from the corner] "that in one month from to-day there
will be five hundred dollars lookin' round for two hundred on that there
desk mebbe, or p'raps you would incline to two fifty," he drawled, in
his most winning tone to Robbie, who was growing more impatient every
moment.

"Nae matter tae me. Ye're haverin' like a daft loon, ony way."

"You will make a memento of this slight transaction, boys, and per'aps
the schoolmaster will write it down," said Bill.

It was all