!" with all
the strength of his lungs; and even in his terror and excitement
varied this expression by giving the alarm of "fire!"--for what
reason, he always declined to explain, even to his most intimate
friends.

Verty did not even smile, though he remained for a moment motionless,
looking at Mr. Jinks.

Then touching Cloud with his heel, he set forward again, followed by
the dignified Longears. As for Longears, we regret to say, that, on
the occasion in question, he did not comport himself with that high
decorum and stately courtesy which were such distinguishing traits
in his elevated character. His mouth slowly opened--his lips curled
around his long, white teeth, and his visage was shaken with a
nervous tremor, as, looking over his shoulder, he went on in Cloud's
footsteps. Longears was laughing--positively laughing--at Mr. Jinks.

That gentleman ceased crying "fire!" and "murder!" as soon as he came
to the conclusion that there was no danger from the one or the other.
He picked up his sword, looked around him cautiously, and seeing that
no one had observed his flight, immediately assumed his habitual air
of warlike dignity, and extended his hand--which held the hilt of his
undrawn sword--toward Verty. This gesture was so tragic, and replete
with such kingly ferocity, that Mr. Jinks was plainly devoting Verty
to the infernal gods; and the curses trembling on his lips confirmed
this idea.

He was standing in this melo-dramatic attitude, gazing after the
Indian, when he felt a hand upon his shoulder, and heard a jovial
voice say, "How are you, Jinks, my boy! What's the fun?"

The voice was that of Mr. Ralph Ashley.

CHAPTER XXXI.

MR. JINKS ON HORSE-BACK, GOING TO TAKE REVENGE.

Jinks remained silent a moment. Standing face to face, the two
personages surveyed each other in silence--the one laughing, joyous,
ready for any amusement which would be so obliging as to turn up;
the other stately, warlike, and breathing terrible and malignant
vengeance.

Ralph laughed.

"I say, old fellow, what's the matter?" he asked; "you look decidedly
blood-thirsty."

"I am, sir!"

"By Jove! I don't doubt it: you resemble Achilles, when he and
Agamemnon had their miff. What's the odds?"

"I have been insulted, sir!"

"Insulted?"

"And tricked!"

"Impossible."

Jinks remained silent for a moment, looking after Verty.

"Yes," he said, with an awful scowl, "that young man has robbed me of
my mistress-