'" The quotation seemed
fruitless and silly enough, but Jim Pink tucked his head to one side as
if listening intently to himself, then repeated sepulchrally, "'Dus'
thou art, to dus' returnest.' By the way, Peter," he broke off cheerily,
"you ain't happen to see Tump Pack, is you?"
"No," said Peter, unamused.
"Is he borrowed a gun fum you?" inquired the minstrel, solemnly.
"No-o." Peter looked questioningly at the clown through half-closed
eyes.
"Huh, now dat's funny." Jim Pink frowned, and pulled down his loose
mouth and seemed to study. He drew out a pearl-handled knife, closed his
hand over it, blew on his fist, then opened the other hand, and
exhibited the knife lying in its palm, with the blade open. He seemed
surprised at the change and began cleaning his finger-nails. Jim Pink
was the magician at his shows.
Peter waited patiently for Jim Pink to impart his information, "Well,
what's the idea?" he asked at last.
"Don' know. 'Pears lak dat knife won't stay in any one han'." He looked
at it, curiously.
"I mean about Tump," said Peter, impatiently.
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