"
"Do you want him kept?" enquired Mr. Bigglethorpe, as sentry.
"Oh, dear me, yes; he's Rawdon's chief men. I wouldn't lose him fer a
hendred dollars. Rufus, do you mind blowing his brains out if he
attempts to escaype?"
The good-natured Rufus said he didn't mind watching the prisoner, but he
imagined clubbing would be kinder than blowing out his brains.
"All right!" answered the detective, "all right, so long as you keep him
safely."
So Mr. Bangs went back to the house, followed by Sylvanus, Timotheus and
Bill Richards, the last of whom resumed his post, namely the trunk on
which Pierre Lajeunesse had rested.
When the encampment was reached, Mr. Bangs asked Coristine if he had
been smoking on guard or lighting matches, but he had not. He asked Mr.
Terry the same question, which the old soldier almost took as an insult.
"An' is it to me ye come, axin' av Oi shmoke on guarrd, an' shpind my
toime loightin' matches loike a choild? Oi've sane sarvice, sorr, and
nobody knows betther fwhat his juty is."
"I sincerely beg your pardon, Mr. Terry. Please excuse my enxiety; I
smell fire.
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