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"You is shore a tenderfoot! Don' you-all know that blastin' scares all th' deer away from a minin' camp?" Bennington looked confused. "No, I hadn't thought of that," he confessed stoutly enough. "I kind of like to shoot!" said she, a little wistfully. "What sort of a gun is it?" "A Savage smokeless," answered Bennington perfunctorily.
'A gent who could come down to blastin' an' drillin' mere menial tasks, as they shorely be on the heels of honor like this, is a mighty sight more sordid than Copper Queen Billy Rudd. 'Doby, this yere is a remarkable occasion, an' we cel'brates.
He gave a whoop that brought the two sailors leaning over the side. "Bullies!" "Ay, ay!" "Run for your lives I've just rimimbered there's two bar'ls of blastin' powther in the houldt." Then he bent to his oars, as no man ever bent before. Lestrange, sitting in the stern-sheets clasping Emmeline and Dick, saw nothing for a moment after hearing these words.
Yeretofore, thar's no more sociable sport an' none whose system is easier to follow in all Wolfville than Dave. While holdin' himse'f at what you might call 'par' on all o'casions, Dave is still plenty minglesome an' fraternal with the balance of the herd, an' would no more think of donnin' airs or puttin' on dog than he'd think of blastin' away at one of us with his gun.
By George! On a hot Christmas like this is goin' to be, I'd be the jolliest Jack on the ocean if I could git at that canned fruit. `Well, there's a way, says Andy, `that we might git some of 'em. A part of the cargo of this ship is stuff far blastin' rocks ca'tridges, 'lectric bat'ries, an' that sort of thing; an' there's a man aboard who's goin' out to take charge of 'em.
Forrester never said nothin' 'bout blastin'. He'll give it to 'em when he knows it. He'll blast 'em!" He staggered on past the cut-off that led to the camp, keeping well up on the bank along the path beside the ditch that Lysander had dug from Flutterwheel Spring. Once there, the sight of the ruin that had befallen his plans seemed to strike him dumb for a little.
"Did I?" he replied, grinning broadly. "Didn't plan to." From far below there came the crash of bursting powder. Quick and lithe as a panther the man whirled, ready with his rifle. The girl laughed. "Nothin' but the railroad blastin' down there in the valley," she said with amusement. "Ain't you uset to that, yet?" "No," said he, "I ain't an' never will be." His tone was definitely bitter.
"Ony gait it's no the w'y fowk ruins themsel's nooadays, my lord. They'll pu' doon an auld hoose ony day to save themsel's blastin' poother.
"You stole all me and my brother bought and had stored for a season's blastin'. Constable Nute, I call on you to arrest him and give me back my property." "Arrest me, hey?" repeated Mr. Luce. In one hand he shook aloft the stick of dynamite, with its dangling fuse that grimly suggested the detonating cap at its root. In the other hand he clutched a bunch of matches.
There were not many connected links of cause and effect in the old man's muddled brain, but the value of water, for irrigating purposes only, had a firm lodgment there, along with the advantages to be derived from friendliness with the owner of a winery. There stirred in him a groveling desire to exonerate Forrester. "They're blastin', be they?
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