“Yes; Pip deserted once.”
Aunt Stanshy read three notices nailed to the post: “First, no cross words; no swearing and vulgar words; nobody but the treasurer to climb this ladder to go up into the cupola, unless the club say so.”
This was in Charlie’s handwriting.
“Why not go?” asked Aunt Stanshy.
“O we keep our funds up there in a dipper.”
“It looks unsafe to me, for somebody climbing up there might reach into the cup and steal the money.”
“O no, I guess not.”
Sid Waters now stepped forward. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “two more individuals having arrived”—these were nail patrons—“we will begin our entertainment. First is the dialogue called ‘The Spy.’”
The curtain rose and there stood the inheritor of the warlike name of Jugurtha. He was rather sober and melancholy, and was dressed in a semi-military style that betrayed not in the least the fact to what flag he might possibly be attached. Sid was crouching down, hiding behind a barrel.
“What am I?” Juggie now asked in low tones, “American or British?”