“And did he come across the bog to court her!” said Dinny, with a contemptuous tone in his voice. “And could you go across the bog courting if Farmer Magee had put a ring through your nose, and tied you up to a post, sergeant dear? Oh, no! The farmer was moighty particular about that bull’s morals, and niver let him out of a night.”
“Silence in the ranks! ’Tention!” said the serjeant. “Half left!”
Tramp! tramp! tramp! tramp, and the men passed round the end of the building just as the alligator bellowed again.
Abel drew a long breath and rapidly drew himself through the hole—no easy task and Bart began follow, but only to stick before he was half-way through.
“I’m at it again,” he whispered. “Natur’ made me crooked o’ purpose to go wrong at times like this.”
Abel seized his hands, as he recalled the incident at the cottage.
“Now,” he whispered, “both together—hard!”
Bart gave himself a wrench as his companion tugged tremendously, and the resistance was overcome.
“Half my skin,” growled Bart, as he struggled to his feet and stood by his companion. “Now, lad, this way.”
“No, no; that’s the way the soldiers have gone.”