stranger there, the fellow as is come from Florence, and
who may possibly have heard something of this girl's history. _He_ don't
take to me; nor, for the matter o' that, do _I_ to _him_. But that don't
signify; there's one platform brings all manner of folk together,--it's
the great leveller in this world,--Play. Ay, sir, your English lord
has no objection to even Uncle Sam's dollars, though he 'd be riled
con-siderable if you asked him to sit down to meals with him. I 'll jest
let this crittur plunder me a bit; I'll flatter him with the notion
that he's too sharp and too spry for the Yankee. He's always goin' about
asking every one, 'Can't they make a game o' brag?' Well, I 'll go in,
sir. _He_ shall have his game, and I'll have mine."

Layton did not certainly feel much confidence in the plan of campaign
thus struck out; but seeing the pleasure Quackin-boss felt in the
display of his acuteness, he offered no objection to the project.

"Yes, sir," continued Quackinboss, as though reflecting aloud, "once
these sort of critturs think a man a flat, they let out all about how
sharp they are themselves; they can't help it; it's part of their
shallow natur' to be boastful. Let us see, now, what it is we want to
find out: first of all, the widow, who she is and whence she came;
then, how she chanced to have the gal with her, and who the gal herself
is, where she was raised, and by whom; and, last of all, what is't
they done with her, how they 've fixed her. Ay, sir," mused he, after a
pause, "as Senator Byles says, 'if I don't draw the badger, I 'd beg the
honorable gentleman to b'lieve that his own claws ain't sharp enough to
do it!' There's the very crittur himself, now, a-smokin'," cried he;
"I'll jest go and ask him for a weed." And, so saying, Quackinboss
crossed the deck and joined the stranger.

CHAPTER XL. QUACKINBOSSIANA

On the morning on which the great steamer glided within the tranquil
waters of Long Island, Quackinboss appeared at Layton's berth, to
announce the fact, as well as report progress with the stranger. "I
was right, sir," said he; "he's been and burnt his fingers on 'Change;
that's the reason he's here. The crittur was in the share-market, and
got his soup too hot! You Britishers seem to have the bright notion
that, when you've been done at home, you 'll be quite sharp enough to do
us here, and so, whenever you make a grand smash in Leadenhall Street,
it's only coming over to Broadway! Well,