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and to stop at Collinsville would be to have it about our ears.
"Every man Jack of them has a gun," one of the sailors remarked cheerfully.
"Yes, and a knife, too," the other sailor added.
It was Ole Ericsen's turn to groan. "What for a Svaidish faller like me monkey with none of my biziness, I don't know," he soliloquized.
A bullet glanced on the stern and sang off to starboard like a spiteful bee. "There's nothing to do but plump the Mary Rebecca ashore and run for it," was the verdict of the first cheerful sailor.
"And leaf der Mary Rebecca?" Ole demanded, with unspeakable horror in his voice.
"Not unless you want to," was the response. "But I don't want to be within a thousand miles of her when those fellers come a board"--
