"Jefferson," said Jack, "I am now about seeking my foes, and fear not but I will render a good account of my actions, for against the brigands I feel the strength of a giant."
CHAPTER XXIX.
WHEREIN MR. MOLE PHILOSOPHISES AND HAS AN ADVENTURE—THE SCENT
OF BATTLE—MOLE THE TERROR OF THE BRIGANDS—ISAAC THE
ANNIHILATOR—MOLE'S PRISONER.
It must not be supposed that Isaac Mole was idle all this time.
He heard of the bold doings of his friends Harkaway, Harvey and Jefferson, not to speak of the valuable aid of Nabley the detective, and, figuratively speaking, his very soul panted for glory.
"I feel I could conquer by my single hand half-a-dozen brigands," said Mole to himself; "but still I should prefer to come across a sleeping brigand. But ah, me!" there he sighed deeply, "brigands are as rarely caught asleep as weasels."
Poor old Mole's desire to distinguish himself in this matter was very great.
The plain truth was that poor Isaac was at times badly henpecked.
On these occasions he would assume his most dignified deportment and point to his wooden legs.