Think how powerless they'd be in"---- The talk now drifted off to Indians, politics and religion, edged round to the war, when the grave Judge began telling Ridings and Robie just how "Kilpatrick charged along the Granny White Turnpike," and, on a sheet of wrapping-paper, was showing where Major John Dilrigg fell.

"I was on his left, about thirty yards, when I saw him throw up his hand"---- Foster in a low voice was telling something to the Professor and two or three others, which made them whoop with uncontrollable merriment, when the roaring voice of big Sam Walters was heard outside, and a moment later he rolled into the room, filling it with his noise.

Lottridge, the watchmaker, and Erlberg, the German baker, came in with him.
"_Hello_, hello, _hello_! All here, are yeh ?" "All here waiting for you--and the turnkey," said Foster.
"Well, here I am.

Always on hand, like a sore thumb in huskin' season.
What's goin' on here?
A game, hey?
Hello, Gordon, it's you, is it?
Colonel, I owe you several for last night.

But what the devil yo' got your cap on fur, Colonel?
Ain't it warm enough here for yeh ?" The desperate Colonel, who had snatched up his cap when he heard Walters coming, grinned painfully, pulling his straggly red and white beard nervously.