Sam told me arterwards 'twere like shellin' peas--
spakin' in pinafores--"
"Metaphors," said Mr. Fogo.
"That's et--met-afores. Anyway, they jest fetched a yell, an' then
_went_, sir. I guess Sam knawed the Spanish for 'corpse' afore
they was gone. In less 'n a minnit not a pair o' coloured breeches
cud you find, not ef you wanted them fancy articles ever so.
Sam chuckles a bit to hissel', fas'ens down the lid so well as he
cud, h'ists the Commodore aboard a wheelbarrer, an' trundles 'un off
to the train.
"He cotches the train jest as 'twere startin', an' sails away in a
fust-class carr'ge all to hissel', wi' the Commodore laid 'long the
seat opposite; 'for,' said Sam, 'drat expense when a fun'ral's
goin'!' An' all the way he chuckles an' grins to hissel', to think
o' the start he'd gi'ed they Custom House rascals; an' at las' he
gets that tickled he's bound to lie back an' fairly hurt hissel' wi'
laffin'.
"I reckon, tho', he laffed a bit too early; for jest then the train
slowed down, and pulled up at a stashun. Sam looked out an' saw a
dapper little man a-bustlin' up an' down the platform, like a bee in
a bottle, an' pryin' into the carr'ge windeys same as ef the train
were a peep-show. Presently he opens the door of Sam's compartment,
an' axes, holdin' up a tellygram--
"'Be you the party as es travellin' wi' a dead man?'
"He spoke i' Spanish, o' cou'se, sir; but, not knowin' the tongue, I
tells et to you in English.
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