"Give me the pistol. Fire it off, if you like."
"That you may load it again. You don't catch a weasel asleep," answered Andy, shrewdly. "I've a great mind to make you march into the village, and give you up to the perlice."
This suggestion was by no means pleasant for the highwayman, particularly as he reflected that Andy had shown himself a resolute boy, and doubly armed as he now was, it was quite within his power to carry out his threat.
"Don't fire after me," he said.
"I never attack an inimy in the rare," said Andy, who always indulged in the brogue more than usual under exciting circumstances.
I make this explanation, as the reader may have noticed a difference in his dialect at different times.
"We shall meet again, boy!" said Fairfax, menacingly, turning at the distance of a few feet.
"Thank you, sir. You needn't thrubble yourself," said Andy, "I ain't anxious to mate you."
"When we do meet, you'll know it," said the other.
"Maybe I will. Go along wid ye!" said Andy, pointing the pistol at him.