Galloping Dick
“Where’s Creech?” says I; but, Lord, I knew where Creech would be, if he were alive; and there he was, for sure, rifling the pockets of the escort. “Give me a hand,” says I to Zacchary, “there’s a bodkin through my kidneys.”
“We finished ’em off,” he cries. “I ha’ killed three,” repeating the phrase in a silly braggart way.
“You bloody-minded young tyger,” I says. “What is it, who killed whom? Stand up there, Dan,” I says, “and let’s get to business.”
“’Twas my blade as done it all,” says Zacchary in excitement.
“Keep your mouth, you young devil,” I said, for I was fretted with my wound; and I jerked my elbow into his side for a reminder. Now, I was leaning full heavy upon Zacchary’s shoulder, and my face was turned to where Creech was stooping among the corpses; when all of an instant the quiet was startled, and Zacchary, loosening his hold on me, slipped to the earth with a groan. I fell with his body, which quivered under me, but pulling myself up quickly stared at Creech.
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