Part 6 (2/2)
”Well, did you ever!” he murmured.
”No, I never,” came the response.
”What was it we struck?”
”I feel as though something had _struck me_,” was the answer.
”My covies, we got it good.”
”Did you? Well, I got it _bad_. Oh, how my head aches!”
”Who are they?”
”I'll never tell you, but it was the gal gave me my rap and she came down on me with the force of a Goliah, and I went down--see? I'm down yet.”
”I don't understand,” said the leader as he mopped the blood trickling from the wound in his head with his handkerchief.
”I'll never explain it to you,” said the humorist.
”Hang me, but I can't think.”
”Neither can I. My thoughts are wool-gathering, and no wonder, eh? By jiminy! what a settler I got, and I settled.”
”They were playing us.”
”Yes, they were playing us, and they had lots of fun rattling on my poor conk.”
”But who are they?”
”Mr. and Mrs. Giant, I reckon, and it came so quick that for a moment I thought I was in a s.h.i.+p and a squall had blown the mast over on me. But see here, pards, we'd better get up and git, or mebbe some of our misdeeds may rise up in judgment against us. Instead of our putting the dude in jail he may jug us.”
”Right you are; let's scatter.”
”Where will we meet?”
”In the city, and we'd better lay low. There is more in this little experience than a crack on the head. We're lucky if we get away.”
The three men rose to their feet, held a few moments' talk and then scattered. Each man determined to make his way to the city on his own hook, and they considered it was possibly by hook or by crook that they would get there.
Oscar and Cad had disappeared. Indeed, the rogues had hardly dared look at each other or speak until the ”singulars” had gotten out of sight.
Once well away Oscar said:
”All right, Cad, I must leave you now to s.h.i.+ft for yourself awhile. I am going to finish up this business. We know where to meet.”
”Yes.”
They were standing in a hollow between two sandbanks and it was dark.
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