"Hello, boys," called out the Deacon. "How are you? Shorty, come out here.""Every kindshot-guns, pistols, rifles, flint-locks, cap-locksevery kind. Now, you mustn't ask me any more questions. Don't bother me."
ONE:Billings, with scowling face, picked up his hat, buttoned his coat, and walked out.
THREE:But the boys could not calm themselves."I'll git a mattock and shovel and bury it after awhile," he murmured to himself, as he returned and washed his hands. "He's settled for good, any way. He won't be snoopin' around steal in' my chickens. I hope there hain't no more measly hounds around. Should've thought they wuz all starved out long ago. My! but that chicken does smell so nice. How Si and Shorty will enjoy it. It'll build 'em right up. I'd like awfully to take some of it myself, but they'll need every drop, poor fellows."
