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MOBBING FRANCIS: Oh, what a beast is a niggardly ruffler, Nabbing, grabbing all for himself! Hang it, old fellow, I'll hit you a muffler, Since you won't give me a pinch of the pelf. You has not a heart for the general distress, You cares not a mag if our party should fall, And if Scarlet Jem were not good at a press, By Goles, it would soon be all up with us all!
"I was going to get her anyway," said Goles evenly, and leveled his revolver at Jan, who had jumped to save her from falling overboard and was now holding her away from Goles. "I got you where there's no comeback!" gritted Goles, and took careful aim at Jan! but did not fire. He felt a ring of cold metal pressed against his neck and half turned to see what it was. "Don't shoot! Don't!" he begged.
MOBBING FRANCIS: Oh, what a beast is a niggardly ruffler, Nabbing, grabbing all for himself! Hang it, old fellow, I'll hit you a muffler, Since you won't give me a pinch of the pelf. You has not a heart for the general distress, You cares not a mag if our party should fall, And if Scarlet Jem were not good at a press, By Goles, it would soon be all up with us all!
"You " The word the bartender gritted out could not be heard, because he pulled the trigger as he said it. Goles sagged down until his knees rested on the deck. Then he fell forward and over the side of the raft. There was the gentlest of splashes, a patch of red a cluster of bubbles which burst like sighs. "Well!" said the bartender, and held up the revolver in wonder.
He drank that, paid, and turned to go. Jan caught a front glimpse of his face. It was Goles. Jan also saw that the bartender was looking curiously after him. Jan waited for him outside. As he came almost abreast, the ship heaved and the two men fell against each other, while a great splash of sea-water drenched them. Again a roll and jump, and Goles would have fallen had not Jan held him upright.
'Mrs. Goles' he registered, and not himself. Goles? I wonder if that's Hen's woman? Well, if it is he'll get his good and plenty before Hen's done with him." "Yes, and the police'll get Hen. And, say, that Swede ain't such a gink when yuh get a second look at him." "I don't know.
Maitre Wace, an historian of that time, has an account of the preservation of William's life, when Duke of Normandy, by his fool, Goles; and, in Domesday book, mention is made of Berdin joculator regis; and though this term sometimes denoted a minstrel, evidence might be adduced to prove, that in this instance it signified a buffoon.
Jan could pick up a keg of copper rivets with one thumb and forefinger and toss it across the deck of a ship. And now he squeezed. Goles hung on. Jan squeezed. The knuckles began to crack. "G-g-g " snarled the other and loosed his grip.
Toward the bartender, who was behind him, he had not once turned his head. Jan worked on the long oar. The point of land was coming nearer. "A hard drag yet; but we'll be there by sunrise!" said Jan in a low voice to the bartender; at which Goles looked round suddenly but said nothing. At last they were under the lee of the point. The sea was beautifully smooth.
And Robert Strong's gole, how different his wuz from Mudd-Weakdew's. I methought of what Miss Meechim had said to me deplorin'ly, how different Robert Strong wuz. Yes, indeed! both on 'em had had fur different goles and pursued 'em. The onselfish road Robert Strong trod wuz leadin' him to the house of happiness Mudd-Weakdew's to the house of pain and despair.
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