“Don’t do that, sir, please; but I will speak out honest. I must, when you axes me to.”
“Ah!” cried Bracy.
“I’m strong as a horse again, sir; but sometimes I do get a sorter dig in the back, just as if a red-hot iron rod were touching up my wound when the bit o’ iron—”
“No, no, man,” cried Bracy, laughing. “I mean qualm of dread, or shrinking about running the risk.”
“Oh, that, sir? Not me. Ain’t I just as likely to be shot if I stop quiet here? They’re allus trying to do it. I gets more sniping than any chap in the company.”
“Then you will go with me?”
“I just will, sir. Anywheres.”
“Thank you, Gedge. I’ll say no more, for I know that you will stick to me like a man.”
“Ha!” ejaculated Gedge, exhaling an enormous amount of pent-up emotion, and drawing his arm across his thickly perspiring brow, while a pleasant, contented smile lit up his plain features, as he drew himself up more stiffly to attention, waiting for orders.
“Well done, Gedge!” said Roberts softly.—“You’ve picked the right lad, Bracy.”