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Hans' teeth were plainly heard to rattle together like dice. "One!" counted Barney. "Uf he don'd run avay, I vas reaty to hear him abologize," murmured the Dutch lad. "Say!" Ephraim hoarsely whispered to Sammy. "Git a rope an' tie me, quick! Hang me ef I don't believe my legs is goin' to run the best I kin do." "Two!" counted Barney. "Shimminy Gristmas! vere vas someding I can hide pehind?"
This was barely settled when there came a sharp rap on the door. "Git under cover quick!" hissed Tad. "That must be one of 'em!" Tad and Hans made haste to squeeze in behind the organ, and Frank crept under the sofa. "Shimminy Gristmas!" muttered the Dutch lad, "uf id don'd peen britty tight blace here den I ton't know somedings."
"By the way, Hans," said Frank, "do you know that the fellow who used to have this room committed suicide here?" "Shimminy Gristmas!" gurgled the Dutch boy. "You don'd say dot!" "Yes, I do, and the room is said to be haunted by his spook, which cannot rest in its grave." "Vell, dot vos nice! Oxcuse me while I haf a chill!"
In a long tongue of bushes that ran down to the Marsh they had found a mud-stained uniform, complete even to the cap, bearing the initial of the deserter's company. "Is there any hut or cabin hereabouts, Schmidt?" asked Calvert. "Dot vos schoost it, Lefdennun," replied his corporal. "Dot vos de shanty from der Kingvisher old Gulbebber. I pet a dollar, py shimminy, dot der men haf der gekommt."
You shot me in the neck, and I'm all kivered with blood, but I kin do ye, jest ther same!" "Dot vos der gweerest colored plood vot I nefer saw! You don'd peen shot ad all." "Then, by gum! I'm goin' ter lick ye anyhaow!" and Ephraim scrambled to his feet. "Vell, you don'd done dot till you catch me, py Shimminy!"
"You will die like a hero, and we'll bury you with all the honors of war." "Yah!" snorted Hans. "Dot vos nice I don'd pelieve! I don'd care apout dot honors uf var! Oh, Shimminy Gristmas! vot a fool a blamed fool vos!" "I am surprised at you," said Frank, sternly. "You should be proud to perish in such a heroic manner." "Oh, yaw! I peen tickled to death mit a pullet. Id vos fun!"
Barney quickly extinguished the light, but Hans lost no time in getting under the blankets, while the Irish lad made a leap to do so. Then came a cry of astonishment and fear from Hans. "Shimminy Gristmas!" exclaimed the Dutch boy. "Vot dot vos I touch me to, ain'd id?" "Shut up!" growled Barney. "Bad cess to yez! do yez phwant th' officer av th' guarrud doon on us! Kape shtill, ur "
"Bud I don'd like dot peesness uf sdanding oop to be shod ad mit a pullet oudt uf a bistol. Somepody mighd ged hurt, ain'd id?" "Oh, there's no danger that you'll get hurt any more than to have a bullet through your head." "Vot vos dot?" gurgled Hans. "A pullet drough mein headt. Shimminy Gristmas! Uf dot don'd vas pad enough, vot you vant? Oxcuse me!"
"Well, Handy, me b'y," replied Barney, "it's me proivate opinion, which Oi don't moind publicly ixprissing, thot they're plannin' mischief." "Yaw, I pets me your boots you vos righd. Dey don'd haf their headts togeder near vor nottings, py shimminy!" "Oi'd loike to take th' spalpanes by th' ears an' rap their hids togither wance," declared the Irish lad. "Oi'd make thim see stars."
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