Vance shoved the tobacco canister across, but Cornell pulled out a handful of cigars and passed them around.
"Uncommon bad piece of trail just this side of the turn," he remarked stentoriously, at the same time flinging an eloquent glance at the demijohn.

"Ice rotten from the springs and no sign till you're into it." Turning to the woman by the stove, "How're you feeling, Blanche ?" "Tony," she responded, stretching her body lazily and redisposing her feet; "though my legs ain't as limber as when we pulled out." Looking to his host for consent, Cornell tilted the demijohn over his arm and partly filled the four tin mugs and an empty jelly glass.
"Wot's the matter with a toddy ?" the Virgin broke in; "or a punch ?" "Got any lime juice ?" she demanded of Corliss.
"You 'ave?
Jolly!" She directed her dark eyes towards Del.

"'Ere, you, cookie! Trot out your mixing-pan and sling the kettle for 'ot water.

Come on! All hands! Jake's treat, and I'll show you 'ow! Any sugar, Mr.Corliss?
And nutmeg?
Cinnamon, then?
O.K.

It'll do.
Lively now, cookie!" "Ain't she a peach ?" Cornell confided to Vance, watching her with mellow eyes as she stirred the steaming brew.
But the Virgin directed her attentions to the engineer.