“Yes.”
Gurley advanced till within about fifty feet of the stockade-wall, and then stopped. “How are ye, Holden? How are ye, Perkins?” he called out.
“What do you want, Gabe Gurley?” asked Holden, rather gruffly.
“I’ve come to ask ye to surrender,” was the reply.
“Then you are wasting your time, Gurley.”
“Ye mean thet ye won’t surrender?”
“Yes.”
“Ye’d better. We can stay here till yer grub gives out, an’ then ye’ll have to surrender, an’ ye might as well do et now.”
“We have provisions to last us till--”
Holden hesitated, but Gurley finished: “Till Gin’ral Greene an’ his army gits here, ye was goin’ to say, hey?” with a grin. “Well, they won’t git here as soon as ye think, I can tell ye that.”