Good night!" "One for his nob that, Gov'nor--my hat, yuss!" said Dollops, with a shrill laugh, as he stuck a red head and a face all shiny with cocoa butter and half-removed grease-paint out of the window, and, despite the fact that the swift pace of the automobile had already carried it far past the place where the count had been in hiding, made a fan of his five fingers and his snub nose.

"Oh, Mother 'Ubbard! Did you see him, sir?
Bunked back in his 'ole like somebody had 'give him the hook,' and cleared the blessed stage before the eggs began to fly.

I don't think them Germans 'ull be sittin' on the steps of St.Paul's this year, sir--not them!" Cleek laughed; and, ordering the boy to shut down the window and get on with the work of changing his clothes, set about doing the same thing himself.
"I suppose you know, you clever little monkey, that I should have been floating down the Seine with a slit throat and enough lead in me to sink a barrel by this time, if it hadn't been for you," he said, as he pushed the outward semblance of Clodoche into the kit-bag, and began to get into ordinary civilian's dress as expeditiously as possible.

"If you had slipped up--if you had been one-half minute late--or if that fellow had had a chance to make one cry before you covered his mouth--" "Please, sir--_don't_!" interposed Dollops, with a sort of shiver.

"If anythink had've happened to you, Gov'nor..." Then stopped short and made a sound as if he were swallowing something, and then grew very, very still.
Cleek looked at him out of the corner of his eye--moved in spite of himself--hesitated a moment and then, obeying an impulse, leaned over and gently tapped him on the shoulder.
"Dollops, shake hands," he said.
"Sir!" "Shake hands." "Gawd, Gov'nor! You don't never _mean_ that, sir ?" "Shake hands," said Cleek for the third time.