CHAPTER XXVII
THE SHARPSHOOTERS
"I shall see dem hanged," screamed the little sutler; "I shall see dem hanged. Dey steals mine goots. Dey tip ofer mine tent. I shall see dem hanged."
Levi's voice, usually shrill, in his rage now became almost a childish treble. Even his wounded fingers were forgotten for the moment, and he was gesticulating with both hands.
"Shure," exclaimed Dennis, pretending to have difficulty in recognizing the little Jew, "shure, 'tis Levi! My friend, it's lucky for you it's not cold here. You talk so much wid your hands they might be frozen stiff."
Unmindful of the declaration, Levi became still more excited and his hands were moving still more rapidly.
"Yah, I shall see you hanged!" he shouted. "You shall no more steal mine goots! It shall cost you more nor you vould haf paid for mine goots, vot vas so cheap. You shall no more tip ofer mine tent!"
"Levi," said Dennis solemnly, "how many pinsions are you drawin'?"
"I draw no pensions yet," shrieked Levi.
"I understand," said Dennis, "that you are trying to draw two pinsions, one for the scratch you got on each finger."