“He didn’t dare to buss me,” exclaimed Polly, who was ministering to her grandfather. “Leastways not right out there before you all.”
“Please, ma’am, don’t you be skeered of Iserl,” said Chadwick. “I kin take a quarter of that shote an’ tole him plumb back to camp.”
“Now I don’t like the looks er this,” exclaimed Uncle Billy Powers, who had suddenly discovered that Lovejoy, sitting by the side of Danny Lemmons, was bound so that it was impossible for him to eat in any comfort. “Come, boys, this won’t do. I don’t want to remember the time when any livin’ human bein’ sot at my table on Christmas day with his han’s tied. Come, now!”
“Why, tooby shore!” exclaimed Aunt Crissy. “Turn the poor creetur loose.”
“Try it!” cried Colonel Watson, in his shrill voice. “Jest try it!”
“Lord, no,” said Danny Lemmons. “Look at his eyes! Look at ’em.”
Lovejoy sat pale and unabashed, his eyes glittering like those of a snake. He had refused all offers of food, and seemed to be giving all his attention to Israel Spurlock.
“What does Moseley say?” asked Colonel Watson.
“Ah, he is your prisoner,” said Moseley. “He never struck me as a dangerous man.”