Barkswell with a provoking smile.
"Wal, I should remark. And you'd a ben glad on't. I ain't goin' ter die
yet awhile, pardner. Do you know why?"
The ex-tramp seemed cool enough under the circumstances.
"Explain, Perry."
"I'm goin' to live to see you hang."
"Now, now, old boy, that's unkind."
"Jest the same it's true."
"I really hope not."
"I had my fortune told once."
"Indeed."
"The dumdest lookin' old critter in York told it."
"Well?"
"She gin me a good yarn, one that I'm thinkin's going to come true."
"Why do you think so? I supposed you were above superstition, Mr.
Jounce."
"So I be, but sence a part of the prophecy has come true, why shouldn't
the rest?"
"Sure enough."
"You agree with me there?"
"Certainly."
"Then I'll tell you the rest on't, though its sometimes made my blood run
cold when I think on't," proceeded the tramp, looking up into the face of
his companion, with blood-stained countenance, and eyes that were sodden
with pain and passion. He looked like some prisoner of state doomed to
the martyr's stake, as he sat there in the dim light and talked in a
solemn monotone that was weird and unnatural.
Pages:
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156