"My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. . "You play?" asked McClintock, who was sorting the rolls. Nothing disheartened by this survey, Jack set to work upon the lock, which he attacked with all his implements;—now attempting to pick it with the nail;— now to wrench it off with the bar: but all without effect. He continued to do this for the rest of the evening intermittently, in and out, among other topics. ’ ‘Eh? Why did you not say so, man?’ demanded Hilary crossly. F. Lucy tried not to make her cringe noticeable. “You too sing?” he asked.
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