"Then I'll have to tumble you."
"So you take me for a Union man?"
"I reckon I take you for a prisoner, or a corpse. Which is it?"
"I haven't any desire to become a corpse," answered Deck.
"Then you'll come down? Correct, Major. Toss them pistols down fust, though."
"Say, Major, tumble down right Yere!"
Page [352].
The gun was still pointed at Deck's head while the sharpshooter remained partly screened by some brush. As there seemed no help for it Deck threw down his pistol and also an extra revolver he had lately taken to carrying. His sabre had been left in Life Knox's charge.
"Now come down, and no funny work," went on the Confederate. "I reckon you didn't reckon on bein' took so quick like, did ye?"