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"Well, well!" he muttered. "And to think that you're Artie Quibble! And who may this be?" pointing to Hawkins. "I'll tell you all," said I, "later on. For the present, he's a friend of mine who's travelling with me more on business than on pleasure." Quirk's story was soon told. As I already expected, drink had become his master.
He grinned and that expression was a baring of teeth like a wolf's uninhibited snarl. "You one of Quirk's rough-string scout boys, ain't you? We sure raised hell an' put a chunk under it back theah. Them Yankees are gonna be as techy as teased rattlers. An' I don't see as how we can belly through the brush with this heah hombre. He's got him a middle full of guts to stick it this far.
"Kathleen! Honey!" Kathleen could hear Mrs. Quirk's voice calling to her from the house. "I must go inside," she urged. "No! You must come with me, now, to-night! There is the night express, and I have a cab waiting for us outside the gate," he answered. There was mastery in his voice, and she felt that she could not resist. "Kathleen! Honey!" cried the voice again.
All might have ended well had not Quirk, not understanding fully the proprieties of the dinner-table, darted out his paw and seized a lump of potato from the soup-plate. Pigeon could not stand this, but shoving the denied plate from him, he made a dash with his spoon at Quirk's face, almost knocking some of his teeth down his throat.
The Westlake family, mother, daughter, and two sons, were in the fifth story, helpless and hopeless. Quirk ran up on the scaling-ladder to the fourth floor, hung it on the sill above, and got the boys and their sister down. But the flames burst from the floor below, cutting off their retreat. Quirk's captain had seen the danger, and shouted to him to turn back while it was yet time.
Neither of them was expert in the use of carpenter's tools, therefore it was supper- time before they finished, and the result of their labor was nothing to be proud of. Each now possessed a craft that would float, no doubt, but which in few other respects resembled a boat; Linton's was a slim, square-ended wedge, while Quirk's was a blunt barge, fashioned on the lines of a watering-trough.
He repeated the statement; and added that there could be no doubt about it, for he had it on Mr. Octavius Quirk's authority. "Well, it's a good thing to be told," she said, sweetly, "for then you know."
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