'
'It wouldn't do, Uncle Ned,' said Gideon.
'But you're not mad enough,' cried Mr Bloomfield, 'to persist in trying
to dispose of it yourself?'
'There is no other path open to me,' said Gideon.
'It's not common sense, and I will not hear of it,' cried Mr Bloomfield.
'I command you, positively, Gid, to desist from this criminal
interference.'
'Very well, then, I hand it over to you,' said Gideon, 'and you can do
what you like with the dead body.'
'God forbid!' ejaculated the president of the Radical Club, 'I'll have
nothing to do with it.'
'Then you must allow me to do the best I can,' returned his nephew.
'Believe me, I have a distinct talent for this sort of difficulty.'
'We might forward it to that pest-house, the Conservative Club,'
observed Mr Bloomfield. 'It might damage them in the eyes of their
constituents; and it could be profitably worked up in the local
journal.'
'If you see any political capital in the thing,' said Gideon, 'you may
have it for me.'
'No, no, Gid--no, no, I thought you might. I will have no hand in the
thing. On reflection, it's highly undesirable that either I or Miss
Hazeltine should linger here.
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