Publisher's Synopsis
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1922 edition. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER XVII QUICK," says I. "Push," says Catty, and he got his shoulder against the cases on the opposite side of the pile from the man. I didn't stop to ask why, because there are times when there's nothing to do but what you're told--and to be mighty rapid about it. I shoved, and over went the boxes. "Out," says Catty. I jumped over and was set to make a dash for the water and swim for it, when Catty grabbed me. "Don't run," says he, "walk slow and act as if you had a right to be here." "Walk where?" says I. "Keep alongside of me," says he. "This is where we pull the lion's whiskers." I don't remember where we walked. My mind was on something else. You can bet it was. So I just tagged Catty and we walked around aimless like--or that's the way it seemed to me--for about seven hours. I began to feel for long whiskers on my chin, because it seemed as if I'd been inside that barb wire long enough to be at least seventy years old. Another night like the last one and Methuselah wouldn't have a year on me. Then, all of a sudden, a man came bearing down on us, and he looked awful belligerent. "Hey, you," says he. "Where you think you're goin'?" "Who? . . . Us?" says Catty, kind of like he was about two-thirds of half witted. "Yes, you." "We're lookin' for somebody," says Catty. "Well, you've found him. I'm him. . . ." He made a grab for our collars. "How'd you git here?" "Oh," says Catty, "we just come." "Huh. . . . Well, now you're goin' to just go!' he says, and his voice was mean. I didn't like it at all. You could tell by it that his toe was itching to get acquainted with the seat of somebody's pants. "You're him?" says Catty. "Then we can deliver our message." "What message?" "The one we came to bring." "Say, be you tryin' to make fun of...