"That's me all over when you use me well; but, my little lion, if you should take into that small coon's head o' yourn to be ongrateful for my kindness to you, and make a row, or try to run away, I should have to shoot you jest the same as I should a 'possum if I wanted a Christmas dinner in the woods. Is this thing loaded with ball?"
"Of course it is; it wouldn't be any better than a broomstick if it were not," replied Deck.
"I don't know as I see through this thing edzactly," said Kipps, as he continued to study the mechanism of the lock. "I've got the cartridges, but I don't see any ramrod. Won't you just show me how to work it?"
"Teach you how to use a carbine to shoot me with!" exclaimed Deck, trying to laugh. "You must excuse me, for that would be giving information to the enemy in time of war, and I should be court-martialed for it."
"Jest as you like, Yank; but if there is one load in the pipestem, that will be enough to put you out of the way of any court-martial. I reckon I see into it now; you put the pill in here."
"I haven't anything to say on that subject, Mr. Kipps; but if you should happen to shoot yourself with it, that would save some Union soldier the trouble of doing the job," added Deck.
"But we uns hain't got no time to fool," said the foreman briskly. "You'll let the cat out jest as soon as you see us by the wagon. You can start things now, and open up the cat-bag as soon as you git 'em started."
"What's all that gwine on down below?" asked Lank Rablan, as he looked cautiously by the end of the fence.
"Well, what is it?" demanded Kipps impatiently.
"They are all lookin' up hyer; and that feller with a squawrel's tail in his hat is shaking a white rag over his head as though he'd lost his senses, if he ever had any," Lank explained.