“Do we git our dollar?” says Catty.
“You’ll get a heap more’n a dollar,” says the captain.
“A dollar was the bargain,” says Catty, as stubborn as a mule, “and a dollar’s what we want.”
“Come and git it, then,” says the captain, and off we went. I don’t believe my feet touched the ground. He just kind of shoved me through the air by the arm, and it wasn’t a comfortable way to travel.
“Don’t you go to hurt my cousin,” says Catty. “He ain’t very sharp, and he’s apt to cry. Don’t you go makin’ him cry.”
“Shet up,” says the captain.
In a minute we stopped in front of a kind of a square tent and the captain calls out kind of polite and obsequious, “Mr. Dunn.”
“What’s wanted?”
“Two boys who claim to have a message for you, sir.”
“Fetch them in,” says Mr. Dunn, and the captain all but threw us into the tent.