“Well, we call these things ‘barking irons,’ and if the two officers won’t behave themselves, and act civilly towards us when we call, why then you must blow the brains out of one, while I do the same to the other.”
Ned said this very coolly, but Tim’s eyes rolled in fright at the bare idea of bloodshed.
He did not give utterance to his fears, however, but jogged along by his young master’s side.
Ere long they approached the village, and Wildfire Ned leaped from his mare.
Tim did likewise, and both nags were tethered to a roadside post.
“Come along, Tim, we must do the rest on foot. You know the ‘Red Lion?’ Well, go there, and tell the landlord I want a horse for a few hours; when you come back I shall be here at this post waiting for you. Be quick, mind, and see that he lends you a good steed, for we have a long way to gallop.”
Tim went off on foot towards the “Red Lion.”
Wildfire Ned walked rapidly towards that part of the village where the lock-up or round-house was situated.
All was darkness and profound quietness in the village.
“This is just the time to do the trick,” thought Wildfire Ned.