Stephen Crane

“ Of course Jimmie understood. He had been mad to warn his friends, but his father's mere presence had frightened him from doing it. He stood trembling at the window, while the doctor stretched in an easy-chair near at hand. They waited. The doctor could tell by his son's increasing agitation that the great moment was near. Suddenly he heard Willie Dalzel's voice hiss out a word: "S-s-silence!" Then the same voice addressed Jimmie at the window. "Good cheer, my comrade. The time is now at hand. I have come. Never did the Red Captain turn his back on a friend. ”

“ You know me, men. Many of you have been my followers for long years. You saw me slay Six-handed Dick with my own hand. You know I never falter. Our comrade is a prisoner in the cruel hands of our enemies. ”

“ He's a pirate. Now, Jimmie, come on. Be of light heart, my comrade. Soon you -- "
"I 'low arter all this here long time in jail ye thought ye had no friends mebbe, but I tell ye Hold-up Harry, the Terrar of the Sarahs -- "
"A boat is waitin' -- "
"I have ready a trusty horse -- "
Willie Dalzel could endure his rival no longer.
"Look here, Henry, you're spoilin' the whole thing. We're all pirates, don't you see, and you're a pirate too."
"I ain't a pirate. I'm Hold-up Harry, the Terrar of the Sarahs."
"You ain't, I say," said Willie, in despair. "You're spoilin' everything, you are. ”

“ Jimmie and his father went together into the house, and as Peter unharnessed the mare he continued his comments on the boy and the revolver. He was not cast down by the absence of hearers. In fact, he usually talked better when there was no one to listen save the horses. But now his observations bore small resemblance to his earlier and public statements. Admiration and the keen family pride of a Southern negro who has been long in one place were now in his tone.
"That boy! He's er devil! When he get to be er man -- wow! He'll jes take an' make things whirl round yere. ”

“ I don' wanter be loafin' round dis yer stable if Jim he gwine go shootin' round an' shootin' round -- blim -- blam -- blim -- blam! No, seh. I retiahs. I retiahs. It's all right if er grown man got er gun, but ain't no kids come foolishin' round me with fiah-awms. No, seh. I retiahs."
"Oh, be quiet, Peter!" said the doctor. "Where is this thing, Jimmie?"
The boy went sulkily to the box under the lilac-bush and returned with the revolver. "Here 'tis," he said, with a glare over his shoulder at Peter. The doctor looked at the silly weapon in critical contempt. ”