“Jim Sanders, by all that’s wonderful!”
CHAPTER IX.
THE MEETING ON THE TRAIL TO TRINITY.
“Vot!” shouted Meyer, almost losing his grip on the seat and tumbling off into the trail. “Shim Sanders! Der mans ve vos looking for? It don’d been possible!”
“It is Jim Sanders,” said Prawle, in a tone of conviction.
“Then the country’s safe!” cried Jack and Charlie, with one accord, shaking hands across seats, and feeling as if they could have jumped off and turned a dozen handsprings in the excess of their glee.
“Shook mit me, too, you fellers!” cried Meyer, smiling all over his round face. “I vos so glad, by shinger, I could oxsplode mit interior combustications!”
Jim Sanders was one of the toughest looking specimens of humanity the boys had ever laid eyes on.
His garments, of a shade and texture hard to determine, were a sight to behold.
The majority of his toes protruded through his broken boots.