“You git!” said Gragg, expressively.
“I’ll do the best I can,” replied Somers, confirmed in his opinion that the savages meant to kill him, by the interrupted remark of Turkin, and the expressive tones of Gragg.
“Kin yer write, Yank?” asked Turkin.
“I can.”
“I knew yer could; yer Yanks is great at writin’. Write ’em a note, sayin’ somebody wants ter see ’em down to the next house.”
“Capital!” exclaimed Somers. “I should think you were a Yankee yourself.”
“Don’t call me a Yank.”
“I only meant that you can beat the Yankees at playing tricks.”
“I’m some.”
All the servants outside the house had been captured, and kept in the darkness, where they could not recognize any of the guerillas. They had already been questioned, and enough was known of the family to enable Somers to write a note; but they had no paper.