“I do not understand.”
“I see you don’t,” said the sentry. “What about the great crocodiles that have been waiting about there all night?”
“The crocodile!” said the visitor; and it was not light enough to see, but the stranger’s jaw dropped, and he remained silent till Smithers spoke again.
“Understand that, mister?”
“Yes; you say that to frighten me. You talk one minute about using your fusil to shoot me, and I am not afraid. Then you say you throw me to the crocodile, and still I am not afraid.”
“Then look ye here,” said Smithers, “you just give me that little pistol thing you were going to pull out.”
“What! Sir, I re-fuse.”
Smithers stuck the mouth of his rifle against the stranger’s breast-bone, and pressed upon it heavily.
“Sit down,” he said.