So precious few of us, and trouble ahead.
The natives lashing themselves into a state of mind, or being lashed.
The least spark--Rough work ahead, and here we are at swords' points."
"And the joke is," Rudolph added quietly, "I do not know a sword's point
from a handle."
Heywood turned, glowered, and twice failed to speak.
"Rudie--old boy," he stammered, "that man--Preposterous! Why, it's plain
murder!"
Rudolph stared straight ahead, without hope, without illusions, facing
the haggard light of morning. A few weeks ago he might have wept; but
now his laugh, short and humorous, was worthy of his companion.
"I do not care, more," he answered. "Luck, so called I it, when I
escaped the militar' service. Ho ho! Luck, to pass into the _Ersatz!_--I
do not care, now. I cannot believe, even cannot I fight.
Worthless--dreamer! My deserts. It's a good way out."
CHAPTER IX
PASSAGE AT ARMS
"Boy."
"Sai."
"S'pose Mr. Forrester bym-by come, you talkee he, master no got, you
chin-chin he come-back."
"Can do."
The long-coated boy scuffed away, across the chunam floor, and
disappeared in the darkness.
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