(Retreats hastily to house.)
Capt. G. (His head on neck of M.'s charger.) Jack! I bub-bu- believe, I'm going
to make a bu-bub-bloody exhibitiod of byself.
Capt. M. (Sniffing openly and feeling in his left cuff.) I b-b-believe, I'b
doing it already. Old bad, what cad I say? I'b as pleased as--Cod dab you,
Gaddy! You're one big idiot and I'b adother. (Pulling himself together.) Sit
tight! Here comes the Devil-dodger.
JUNIOR CHAPLAIN. (Who is not in the Doctor's confidence.) We--we are only men
in these things, Gadsby. I know that I can say nothing now to help
Capt. M. (jealously.) Then don't say it Leave him alone. It's not bad enough to
croak over. Here, Gaddy, take the chit to Bingle and ride hell-for-leather.
It'll do you good. I can't go.
JUNIOR CHAPLAIN. Do him good! (Smiling.) Give me the chit and I'll drive. Let
him lie down. Your horse is blocking my cart--please!
Capt. M. (Slowly without reining back.) I beg your pardon--I'll apologize. On
paper if you like.
JUNIOR CHAPLAIN. (Flicking M.'s charger.) That'll do, thanks. Turn in, Gadsby,
and I'll bring Bingle back--ahem--"hell-for-leather."
Capt. M. (Solus.) It would have served me right if he'd cut me across the face.
He can drive too.
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