Part 46 (1/2)

”No,” I said with a sigh; ”but I should like to have a look.”

We two lads went on hovering about the table, peering at first one packet and then at another, feeling them up and down, and quite convincing ourselves that certain ones were a little more ornamental than others. There was no doubt about it, we felt. They were swords, pistols, and carbines.

”Here, I know,” I exclaimed.

”Know what, Sep?”

”The boxes, 250.”

”Well, what about 'em?”

”Cartridges,” I said. ”Two hundred and fifty in each.”

”So they are,” cried Bigley with his eyes dilating; and, however much we may have been disappointed over the silver mine, the counting-house now seemed to be a perfect treasure cave, such an armoury had it become.

”I say, they won't go off, will they?” cried Bigley.

”Pshaw! Not they. I say, wouldn't old Bob like to be here now?”

”Ah, wouldn't he?” said Bigley. ”Why, it's like being in a real robbers' cave.”

”No,” I said; ”not robbers',” and I recalled the thoughts I had indulged in earlier in the day.

”No; of course not,” said Bigley thoughtfully; ”it isn't like a robbers'

cave. I say, don't it look as if there were going to be a fight?”

I nodded, and wondered whether there would be.

”Should you like to be in it if there was?” I said in a curious doubting manner.

Bigley rubbed one ear, and picked up a sword.

”I don't know,” he said. ”Sometimes I think I should; but sometimes I feel as if it would be very horrid to give a fellow a chop with a thing like this, just as if he was so much meat. I would, though, if he was going to hurt my father,” he cried with his eyes flas.h.i.+ng. ”I'd cut his arm right off. Wouldn't you?”

”Dunno,” I said, and I began wondering whether there would ever be any occasion to use these weapons, and I could not help a shrinking sensation of dread coming over me, for I seemed to see the horror as well as the glory of shooting down human beings, and more than ever it occurred to me that if trouble did come, my old school-fellow might be on one side and I on the other.

”I say,” said Bigley suddenly; ”we've only undone one box, oughtn't we to undo the other?”

”What, that?” I said, looking at a shorter smaller box on end in the corner behind the door.

”Yes.”

”Father didn't say I was to.”

”But that looks as if it came from the same place.”

”Why, Big,” I cried eagerly, ”that must have the uniforms in it.”

”Hurray! Yes,” he cried. ”Wonder whether they're scarlet?”