"Ay, murder him, if you like the term," returned Wild. I am already too much flattered that you should have given me your confidence. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. He was well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. “Well?” “I don’t care a rap for all these things. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it.
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