I told him to go to the devil; so would you too, when there was no possible thing to say! And then he said I had pawned them, and did I know it was felony?
Then I made a pretty neat stroke.

I remembered he was deaf, and talked a whole lot of rot, very politely, just so low he couldn't hear a word.

"I don't hear you," says he.

"I know you don't, my buck, and I don't mean you to," says I, smiling away like a haberdasher.

"I'm hard of hearing," he roars.