“What?” says he.
“Plunk of the Wooden Head,” says I, because I was sort of disgusted.
“And I’ll g-give you one,” says Mark. “It’s Binney of the Complainin’ Tongue.”
I didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say, and I might have known better, in the first place, than to go fooling with a scheme of Mark’s and making fun of it. So I shut up and was glad to.
“Now,” says Mark, “I f-figger that Knight’ll stop clost to the bridge that crosses the river dividin’ his lands from ourn. Maybe there’ll be a m-messenger a-waitin’ there for him. It’s our business to hear what’s said, because a word may be d-dropped that’ll show us where he’s imprisoned our master, the Duke.”
“How’ll we manage it?” says Tallow.
“Divide up,” says Mark. “You two men-at-arms, Tallow and Plunk, sneak over and come to the b-bridge from the left side of the road. There’s thick alders growin’ right there and you can scrooch down in ’em. Binney and I will t-tackle the job from the right. Then, if one p-party’s discovered and s-slain, the other party’s got a chance to come through alive and rescue the Duke.”
“Huh!” says I. “I know which party I hope gits slain, if anybody does, and I hain’t one of it.”
We started off then, Mark and I going to the right, and Tallow and Plunk cutting off through the woods to the left.
“We want to get there g-good and early,” says Mark, “so as to get all p-placed and settled before the Knight with the Black Gauntlets comes.”