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He raised the pistol. "Will you throw away that dagger and permit me peaceably to approach you?" "No!" "I will ask you three times, and with your third refusal I shall fire; so beware! Will you throw away the dagger?" "No!" "This is the third and last time I shall ask the question," and he repeated it slowly: "Will you throw away t-h-e d-a-g-g-e-r?" and he brought the weapon to his eye.
"I reckon I kin read that by myself," he added with an embarrassed laugh. "T-h-e c-a-t c-a-u-g-h-t t-h-e r-a-t. Ain't that right?" "Perfectly. We'll pass on to the next." And they did so, sitting on the halves of a divided flour barrel before the blazing chimney.
He had caught sight of something that shed a flood of light on the mystery the surprise that Mr. Sparling had in store for them. But he was not positive enough to commit himself. A moment more, and he knew he was not wrong. "Teddy, if you will read the words on the side of that boat nearest to us, you will understand, I think." "T-h-e," spelled Teddy. "The," finished Phil.
"T-h-e, the o-d, od, theod, o, theodo, l-y-t-e, theodolite," spelled the champion. "Next," said the Squire, nearly losing his teeth In his excitement. Ralph spelled the word slowly and correctly, and the conquered champion sat down In confusion. The excitement was so great for some minutes that the spelling was suspended.
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