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"Now that you boys have had a good breakfast," Si remarked with an accent of cutting sarcasm, "at the expense of that kind-hearted gentleman, Mr. Billings, I'm goin' to give you a pleasant little exercise in the shape of a forced march. If you don't make the distance between here and the other side o' Rossville Gap quicker'n ary squad has ever made it I'm much mistaken.
Thus I saw the Virginian carefully rewrapping Kenilworth, that he might bring it to its owner unharmed; and I said, "Don't you think you could have played poker with Queen Elizabeth?" "No; I expaict she'd have beat me," he replied. "She was a lady." It was at Billings, on this day, that I made those reflections about equality.
Billings requested, somewhat vehemently, that the case be transferred on the exceptions to the Supreme Court, that the stenographer write out the evidence, and that he might have three weeks in which to prepare a draft. This was granted. Zeb Meader, true to his nature, was self-contained throughout the congratulations he received, but his joy was nevertheless intense.
There was a perceptible droop in the Cunjee spirits at the boundary hit. Then Jim bowled the last ball of the over, and there was a composite yell from Cunjee as the Mulgoa man pushed the ball gently into the air just over Dr. Anderson's head. The little doctor was pitifully hot, but he did not fail. The Mulgoa batsman returned to his friends. Dan Billings was a little worried.
Twenty thousand, I think it was; and I wanted the money in those days. Now, wasn't she an abominable monster, that mother of yours, hey, Mr. a What's-your-name?" "She served you right!" said Mr. Billings, with a great oath, starting up out of all patience.
"He ain't worth a groan in the infernal regions at the front. He only takes the place and eats the rations of some man that might be of value." "See here," said Wilson, pointing to a pile of letters and telegrams on his desk. "These are protests against Billings being superseded and sent away. More are coming in all the time.
"You'll be a deader if you try to put him out," sneered Cop Billings; "first place he's got an arm like braided whipcord, and he's got a chin hanged determined swat-you-in-the-face sort of chin not a boiled-fish sort of jaw like yours," and he glared at the unfortunate Locke with sneering disapproval. "Where'd you see him?" ventured little chunky Johnny Miller, getting into his clothes.
Every man felt that Billings had given him the right to expect to be told all about it when the colonel came. Some looked reproachfully at Billings, as though to remind him of their expectations: Stannard, his old stand-by, passed him with a gruff "Thought you said the colonel had something to tell us," and went out with an air of injured and defrauded dignity.
Billings got run over by the train at Mastic Crossin' on Fourth o' July eight year ago, his wife told me with her own lips that she never would git over it, cuz he had his hull big toe stickin' out o' the end of his stockin'. I tell yew, these days we've got tew prepare fer a violent end."
The drivers slept and had breakfast and supper at the Billings house, a mile down river, but for several years Mrs. Wiley had furnished the noon meal, sending it down piping hot on the stroke of twelve. The boys always said that up or down the whole length of the Saco there was no such cooking as the Wileys', and much of this praise was earned by Rose's serving.
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