"What are you going to do with all those guns?" asked Harry, as he surveyed the pile.
"May be some big shooting," replied Washington, nodding his head, wisely. "More guns, more shooting."
"But how are we to carry that arsenal? If I am not mistaken travelling hereabouts is not the easiest thing in the world, and we shall want as little to hamper as possible."
"I guess young gemman right," said Washington, looking regretfully at the heap of guns.
"Let us each take a gun and a pistol——"
"And machete—machete," interrupted the negro, his eyes bulging, while he swung his arm as if wielding one of the short Cuban swords.
"All right, Washington, machete if you choose. They may do to cut our way through the underbrush."
"Cut way through Spaniard," said Washington, still waving his arm excitedly.
"You can do all that kind of cutting, George Wash Jenks. Perhaps you would prefer a razor."
"No, machete."