Be still, Fritz!" The dachel's growl ended in a friendly snuffle, and he began to dance upon Haggerty's broad-toed shoes.
"Bottle of beer?
Cigar?
Take that easy chair.

What's on your mind tonight ?" Forbes rattled away.

"Why, man, there's a cut on the side of your head!" "Uhuh.

Got any witch-hazel ?" The detective sat down, stretched out his legs, and pulled the dachel's ears.
Forbes ran into the bathroom to fetch the witch-hazel.

Haggerty poured a little into his palm and dabbled the wound with it.
"Now, spin it out; tell me what's happened," said Forbes, filling his calabash and pushing the cigars across the table.
For a year and a half these two men, the antitheses of each other, had been intimate friends.