“I tell you, parson, it won’t do to wait any longer,” observed Ruggles, puffing away at his pipe; “things is getting dangerous.”
“Do you think so?” asked his companion, who held precisely the same opinion, but disliked to admit it.
“There isn’t a particle of doubt of it.”
“Let me see,––we agreed to give him warning didn’t we?––just once.”
“Yes,––it’s only fair that you should let a man know afore you hit him, so he can brace himself for the shock, as it were.”
“Well, if we are going to do it, there is no use of waiting.”
“No use! It’ll git worse every day. Let’s go over to his place now.”
“It isn’t likely we’ll find him there; he spends nearly every evening in the cabin of Captain Dawson.”
Neither fancied the task, and, had not their feelings been so wrought up, they never could have been induced to undertake it, but because of their misgivings, nothing could have dissuaded them from their purpose.