"H'i say, Mose! 'ave they h'all ha dozen wives h'apiece?"
"I suppose so, Bill," I replied with a quiet smile.
"'Eaven take care of 'em!" he ejaculated with a mournful air of pity.
"What? of these fellows?"
"No! Mose! H'of the poor lambs that hare tied hup to such ha blamed lot of Turks. H'if Hi had my will with the blackguards, Hi'd lock 'em hup, hin the Hold Bailey, or," he added reflectively, as if he feared I might not understand the character of the place he had alluded to, "four prison-walls for the 'ole of their life."
My companion had announced his views, with regard to the Danites, in tones which were something too loud. They were very evidently heard by Bill Hickman, who turned to look at him. As he did so, Harry for the first time spoke in a voice whose pitch was decidedly intended to reach the saintly ears.
"A truly delightful face, Mose!"
"Do you think so?"
"How I wish he was a red-skin!"
"Blamed hif you h'arn't right, Hank!" cried Bill, "'ow neat you could track and wipe 'im hout."