Their waggon loads were covered with buffalo robes and
tarpaulins, which, however, did not effectually conceal the grindstones
beneath. The drivers eyed the pedestrians with suspicion, and consigned
them to the lower regions and eternal perdition.
"Wilks, my dear," said the lawyer, in a sort of cool fever heat,
"there's a revolver and a box of cartridges in my pack that I'd like to
have in my right hand pocket for that kind of cattle."
"I have one, too," said the dominie, quietly, "but we had better pass on
and not heed them. See, they are armed as well."
Just as he spoke there was a report; a pistol in the hand of the first
teamster smoked, and a poor little squirrel, that had been whirring on
the limb of a basswood, dropped to the ground dead.
"I'd as lief as not put a hole into the back of them d----d packs," said
the second teamster, whereupon the others swore at him to shut up and
save his cartridges.
"Wilks, I could once hit a silver dollar at twenty yards. Dad, I'll get
the thing out anyway." The lawyer sat down, undid his knapsack and
primed his revolver, which he then placed with the box of cartridges in
the pocket out of which he had thrown the fossils.
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