Which he meant I better.

So he buys me duds from head to heel, and we goes to a Turkish bath place and I puts 'em on.

And then we goes and eats.

Hearty.
"Now," he says, "Fido Cut-up, how did you find me ?"* I told him about the bottles.
"A dead loss, those bottles," he says.

"I wanted some non-refillable ones for a little scheme I had in mind, and I had to get them at a certain place--and now the scheme's up in the air and I can't use 'em." The doctor had changed some in looks in the year or more that had passed since I saw him floating away in that balloon.