"Or buckskins and top boots—"
"Hi!" roared the voice, louder than ever, "you theer under th' 'edge,—oho!"
Once more Barnabas marked the place with his finger, and glancing up, straightway espied Stentor, somewhat red-faced, as was but natural, clad in a velveteen jacket and with a long barrelled gun on his shoulder.
"Might you be shouting at me?" inquired Barnabas.
"Well," replied Stentor, looking up and down the lane, "I don't see nobody else to shout at, so let's s'pose as I be shouting at ye, bean't deaf, be ye?"
"No, thank God."
"'Cause if so be as y' are deaf, a can shout a tidy bit louder nor that a reckon."
"I can hear you very well as it is."
"Don't go for to be too sartin, now; ye see I've got a tidy voice, I have, which I aren't noways afeared o' usin'!"
"So it would appear!" nodded Barnabas.