The Money Moon

g to roll down his sleeves, "suppose we do; I aren't above giving a lift to a chap as can use 'is fists,--not even if 'e is a vagrant, and a uncommon dusty one at that;--so, if you're in the same mind about it, up you get,--but no more furrin curses, mind!" With which admonition, the Waggoner nodded, grinned, and climbed back to his seat, while Bellew swung himself up into the hay once more.

"Friend," said he, as the waggon creaked upon its way, "Do you smoke?"

"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner.

"Then here are three cigars which you didn't manage to smash just now."

"Cigars! why it ain't often as I gets so far as a cigar, unless it be Squire, or Parson,--cigars, eh!" Saying which, the Waggoner turned and accepted the cigars which he proceeded to stow away in the cavernous interior of his wide-eaved hat, handling them with elaborate care, rather as if they were explosives of a highly dangerous kind.

Meanwhile, George Bellew, American Citizen, and millionaire, lay upon the broad of hi