CHAPTER SEVEN 

"A common thief!" 

Schomberg bit his tongue just too late, and woke up completely as he saw Ricardo retract his lips in a cat-like grin; but the companion of "plain Mr. Jones" didn't alter his comfortable, gossiping attitude. 

"Garn! What if he did want to see his money back, like any tame shopkeeper, hash-seller, gin-slinger, or ink-spewer does? Fancy a mud turtle like you trying to pass an opinion on a gentleman! A gentleman isn't to be sized up so easily. Even I ain't up to it sometimes. For instance, that night, all he did was to waggle his finger at me. The skipper stops his silly chatter, surprised. 

"'Eh? What's the matter?' asks he. 

"The matter! It was his reprieve--that's what was the matter. 

"'O, nothing, nothing,' says my gentleman. 'You are perfectly right. A log--nothing but a log.' 

"Ha, ha! Reprieve, I call it, because if the skipper had gone on with his silly argument much longer he would have had to be knocked out of the way. I could hardly hold myself in on account of the precious minutes. However, his guardian angel put it into his head to shut up and go back to his bed. I was ramping mad about the lost time." 

"'Why didn't you let me give him one on his silly coconut sir?' I asks. 

"'No ferocity, no ferocity,' he says, raising his finger at me as calm as you please. 

"You can't tell how a gentleman takes that sort of thing. They don't lose their temper. It's bad form. You'll never see him lose his temper--not for anybody to see anyhow. Ferocity ain't good form, either--that much I've learned by this time, and more, too. I've had that schooling that you couldn't tell by my face if I meant to rip you up the next minute--as of course I could do in less than a jiffy. I have a knife up the leg of my trousers." 
what is a shopkeeper ?
shopkeeper