Dash me if he hasn't
been doing a think just now! What business has he to think in the middle
of the night?"
"How do you know?"
"He was out, sir--up in the middle of the night. My own eyes saw it."
"But how do you know that he was up to think?" inquired Mr. Jones. "It
might have been anything--toothache, for instance. And you may have
dreamed it for all I know. Didn't you try to sleep?"
"No, sir. I didn't even try to go to sleep."
Ricardo informed his patron of his vigil on the veranda, and of the
revelation which put an end to it. He concluded that a man up with a
cigar in the middle of the night must be doing a think.
Mr Jones raised himself on his elbow. This sign of interest comforted
his faithful henchman.
"Seems to me it's time we did a little think ourselves," added Ricardo,
with more assurance. Long as they had been together the moods of his
governor were still a source of anxiety to his simple soul.
"You are always making a fuss," remarked Mr. Jones, in a tolerant tone.
"Ay, but not for nothing, am I? You can't say that, sir. Mine may not be
a gentleman's way of looking round a thing, but it isn't a fool's way,
either. You've admitted that much yourself at odd times."
Ricardo was growing warmly argumentative. Mr. Jones interrupted him
without heat.
"You haven't roused me to talk about yourself, I presume?"
"No, sir.
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