They did not dare to
move, as they were too close to the frowning muzzle of the
over-shadowing rifle.
"It's no use to talk that way," the captain warned, "so jist shet yer
dirty mouths. I've heard sich gab before, and it doesn't jar me in the
least."
"Who are you, anyway?" one of the men demanded, "and how dare ye hold
us up? Ye'll pay dear fer this."
"Is that so? It doesn't matter who I am; ye'll find that out soon
enough."
"What d'ye mean?" was the reply.
"Never mind. I'm not here to argue with the like of you. There'll be
others who kin do that better. All that I want yez to do now is to
behave yerselves, and do as I order."
"Well, what d'ye want us to do? Spit it out, and don't be long about
it either."
"Don't git on yer high-horse," the captain warned. "I'm not used to be
talked to in that manner. I never allowed it when I was aboard the
_Flyin' Queen_, and I guess I'm too old to change now. What I want yez
to do is to strip off yer duds, that is, yer pants and jackets."
"Do what?"
"Didn't ye hear me? Git out of yer duds, but keep yer faces this way.
Don't lower yer eyes, or I'll shoot."
At this strange order the foiled men stared in amazement, and for once
their tongues were silent.
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