"China!" said he tragically. "China?"
"Hold on, now, Gett," admonished Van, steering his tall companion as a man might steer a ladder, "you don't break out in the woman line again or there's going to be some concentrated anarchy in camp."
"No, Van, no—now honest, no woman," said Gettysburg in a confidential murmur. "I had my woman eye took out the last time I went down to 'Frisco."
"You're a l-l-l-(whistle) liar!" ejaculated Napoleon.
"What!" Gettysburg fairly shrieked.
"Metaphorical speakin'—meta phor-f-f-f-f-f-(whistle) phorical speakin'," Napoleon hastened to explain. "Metaphor-f-f-f-(whistle)-phorical means you don't really m-m-m-m-(whistle) mean what you say—means—quoth the r-r-r-r-r-(whistle) raven—NEVER MORE!"
Van said: "If you two old idiots don't do the lion and the lamb act pretty pronto I'll send you both to the poor house."
They had entered the hay-yard, among the mules and horses. Gettysburg promptly reached down, laid hold of Napoleon, and kissed him violently upon the nose.
Napoleon wept. "What did I s-s-s-s-(whistle) say?" he sobbed lugubriously. "Oh, death, where is thy s-s-s-s-(whistle) sting?"
Evening had come. The two fell asleep in Algy's tent, locked in each other's arms.