"Remember, there is to be no running away this time," I said, as I replaced my revolver in my belt, having found it in good order and condition. I almost wished, as I spoke, that Brown would decline going, and find some valid excuse for declining. But there was no hope for that. He had drank too much, and was as full of pluck as an Irishman on a Fair day.
"No fear of me, my boy," he cried, as we started towards the peninsula, walking rather slow, however. "I am determined to see what kind of a devil is on the island, even if I tumble into the bog again. You are sure," he continued, "that the liquor is exhausted?"
"Every drop."
"I am sorry for that, 'cos it is good to keep the stomach in order, when mixed with a little river water. Although, to save trouble, I like it, as a general thing, with as little of the latter as possible, for fear of disorders and snakes."
We were within five rods of the bridge, when we suddenly stopped, as though by mutual consent, and looked at each other for a few moments in silence.
"Well?" said my companion.
"Well," I answered.
"Are you going to the island or not?" demanded Mr. Brown.
"That is for you to say," I replied.
"The liquor is all gone?"