They're
noisy enough, but they're too thick to let one get near where there's
anything going on--that is, if he has a fancy for keeping a whole
skin."
"Suppose we go down there now," I suggested. "We might find out
something."
Dicky stopped short.
"Caesar's ghost!" he gasped; "what next? Wouldn't you like to touch off
a few powder-kegs for amusement? Won't you fire a pistol into your
mouth to show how easy you can stop the bullet?"
"Why, you have been down there and are all right," I argued.
"Well, there's nothing much to happen to me, but where would you be if
they got hold of you? You're getting off your _cabesa_, old
fellow," said Dicky anxiously.
"If I could see Mother Borton I could fix it," I said confidently.
"What! That she-devil?" cried Dicky. "She'd give you up to have your
throat cut in a minute if she could get a four-bit piece for your
carcass. I guess she could get more than that on you, too."
Mother Borton's warnings against Dicky Nahl returned to me with force
at this expression of esteem from the young man, and I was filled with
doubts.
"I came up to tell you to look out for yourself," continued Dicky. "I'm
afraid they mean mischief, and here you come with a wild scheme for
getting into the thick of it."
"Well, I'll think better of it," I said. "But see if you can find out
what is going on. Come up and let me know if you get an inkling of
their plans."
"All right," said Dicky. "But just sleep on a hair-trigger to-night.
Pages:
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154