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"And how much more?" cried the Admiral, with a flush in his cheek, and with that expression of triumph and pride which lighted up the eyes of men in those days when they pronounced the magic name of Nelson. "I[Pg 9] should like, I should much like to meet him, to see him, to grasp his hand, for a minute only before my windlass is manned for the next world." "That's Deacon Ringold's buck-board," Billy informed his chum, drawing him behind an alder-screened stump. "Say, ain't he drivin'? Somebody must be sick at his place." Then as the complaining vehicle swept into sight from around the curve, "By crackey, Maurice, your Pa's ridin' with him." Disregarding the question, Billy continued: "The tracks led us a long ways, I kin tell you. We got up into the Scroggie bush at last an' then the rain come.".
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"What's she a-doing' of here?" enquired Pledge, pulling away his plate heavy with meat and fat. Billy was standing up now, his perplexed face turned questioningly on his chums. It was nearly half an hour before Mr. Johnston summoned the boys and girls from the open windows to their seats. The room still smelled strongly of sulphur, but one might still breathe and live. "Ain't goin' to kill 'em," his friend replied. "Trigger-Finger Tim never killed his; he took 'em all alive. All he did was crease their skulls with bullets, an' scrape their spines with 'em, an' when they come to they'd find themselves tied hand an' foot, an' Trigger-Finger smokin' his cigarette an' smilin' down on 'em.".
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