Is this according to your orders?
If not, can you inform me probable cause?
I ask instructions.

"K." Silence, a minute, then Waldron whistled, and began pulling at his thick lower lip, a sure sign of perturbation.
"By the Almighty, Flint" said he.

"I--maybe I was wrong just now, to be so confoundedly touchy about--about what you said.

This--certainly looks odd, doesn't it?
It _can't_ be a series of coincidences! There must be something back of it, all.

But--but _what_?
Rebellion is out of the question, now, and has been for a long time.