“Yes, in the long grass! and there is George's voice.”
“Come out, Jem. Not a word to George for the world. I want to talk to you. If it hasn't turned me sick! I should make a poor hangman. But it was in self-defense, thank Heaven for that!”
“Where are you going in such a hurry, Tom?” said George.
“Oh, only a little way with Jem.”
“Don't be long, it is getting late.”
“No, George!”
“Jem, this is an ugly job!”
“An ugly job, no! —— him, I wish it was his head. Give them me, captain.”
“What, will you take charge of them?”
“That I will, captain, and what is more I'll find your enemy out by them, and—when you come back he shall be in custody—waiting your orders. Give them me.”