There was a ripping and tearing of broadcloth; the “Doubter” fell backwards from the effect of the shock, and then—there was more ripping.
Ponto was hungry and the Infidel Christian had brought him something to eat.
A jump, a rip, a fall, an—
As the novelists say “all this passed quicker than I can write it.” other rip, and all was over.
I was so dumb-struck with astonishment that I couldn’t interfere till Ponto had detailed the “Doubter’s” coat. As he fled I raised a shout and a terrible outcry that made him run all the faster. Away he went like a pirate-ship in a fog, and in two minutes he was hull down among the sand hills.
“Stop him! stop him!” yelled the “Doubter,” but the brute couldn’t understand English, and evidently he was not a stop-watch dog.
“There’s a coat ruined,” continued the “Doubter,”