“What?” said Mr. Maturin.
“Dig,” said the woman with the revolvers.
Mr. Maturin threw down his spade.
“Dig,” said the woman with the revolvers.
Mr. Trevor dug.
Mr. Maturin said: “Dig yourself!”
“Dig,” said the woman with the revolvers.
Mr. Trevor brandished his spade from a distance. He noticed for the first time that they had been digging in the light of the dawn and not of the moon.
“And who the deuce,” said Mr. Maturin dangerously, “do you think you are, not to allow any betting? I have stood a lot from you, but I won’t stand that.”
“Dig,” said the woman with the revolvers, but Mr. Maturin advanced upon the revolvers like a punitive expedition. Mr. Trevor brandished his spade.