"Dot's too pad. How much you gif, hey?"
"We will give you a hundred and seventy-five."
At this announcement the German baker held up his hands in horror, and muttered a number of ejaculations in his native tongue.
"Make it two hundred and seventy-five," he said.
"We can't do it."
"Den take der turnout for two hundred and fifty."
"No, we can't do it," said Matt, and with a wink to Andrew Dilks, he pulled his companion toward the stable doors.
"Hold up!" shouted the baker, in alarm. "Don't go yet, chentlemen. Make dot figure two hundred and twenty-five, and it vos more as tog cheap at dot."
"Perhaps it is, but we can't afford to pay it."
"If I could haf der dime to sell, I vos got more as dot, chentlemen."
"Perhaps so," returned Matt. "But you haven't got to accept our offer, you know. We'll look around for something cheaper."
"You vill bay cash on der spot?"
"Yes; but you must give us a free and clear bill of sale."
