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One knew that Wayne had traditions, yet he was not tradition fettered; he suggested ancestors without being ancestor conscious. Was it the gun as Wayne the Worthy persisted in calling it and the gun's predecessors for Wayne always had something made him so distinctly more than the mere result of things which had formed him?
A hydraulic ramrod thereupon wets his whistle with a sponge, on the end of which is a small reservoir of water. The monster is temperate. This withdrawn, a wad is placed on the end of the ramrod. Three men shove a bolster of powder into the gun's mouth. The huge shot is then hydraulically lifted to the muzzle.
"That's gospel shore enough, but, as Pie said, they ain't a whole lot particular as how they deal th' cards. We better get a move on an' find that ornery little cuss," replied Buck. "O. K., only I ain't losin' no sleep about Hoppy. His gun's too lively for me to do any worryin'," asserted Red. "They'll get lynched some time, shore," declared Buck. "Not if they find Hoppy," grimly replied Red.
Continuing to do as he was told, he stuffed the bank notes and silver into the masked man's pockets, one gun's muzzle against his breast, the other holding the men in line at bay. Rathburn heard footsteps on the walk close to him. He whirled and saw two men about to enter the resort. "I wouldn't go in there," he said sharply in a low voice. "Eh what's that?"
Standing at the breech, he steadied the gun with his left arm and shoulder, seized the pistol-grip, placed his finger on the trigger, and then slowly and carefully brought the target within the sighting line in readiness to fire. The other members of the gun's crew were at their proper stations.
Oh, if it wasn't so dark! Big gun's crew!" he cried. "Is the tackle with her?" "Ay, ay!" came in answer, after a short bustle of movement, in which trained men took their places. "Here, run the rammer down her throat, my lads. She may be loaded." There was the sound of the stout ash staff passing down the bore of the gun, and the answer came "Right!" "Good," replied Joe. "Lower down that light.
The gun's deep roar rang out loud above the din of the smaller weapons, and a brilliant flash of white light leaped out on board the steamer, the missile blowing a huge hole in her starboard bow, and setting her on fire forward; as was seen by the blaze which at once sprang up on board her.
There he's gone and shot a robin at least, I suppose it was him for I don't know who else should have done it and his gun's standing by and then he's gone and picked it ma'am picked the feathers off, and they 're lyin' all round; and then he washed it in the lake, and he was hard to suit, for he walked a good way up the lake before he found a place where he would wash it; and now he's made a fire and stuck up the bird and roasted it; and why he didn't get me or Miss Miller to do it I don't comprehend.
I dundthered at his doore till he opened it, thin I towld him I'd seen th' Banshee! "'That bates Bannagher! says he. "'It bates th' divil, says I. 'But whose fur above th' night is what I'd like t' know. "'Oul Misther Chaine, says he, 'as sure as gun's iron!" The narrative stopped abruptly, stopped at McShane's door. "Did oul Misther Chaine die that night?" Anna asked.
Hogarth clapped a sudden hand of horror upon Quilter-Beckett's shoulder. "My God !" Quilter-Beckett started like a gun's recoil. "Be calm, Admiral: it may be only some mistake....From whence had you this order?" "From from the Mahomet, in the usual course " "Good night, Admiral; I would be alone".
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