They dropped their matches somehow; that's what fetched 'em home early.

They'll have to sleep on the verandah to-night.

We'll make that their boodore, as they say in France." The dark was now falling; the sunlight had left long, faint, crimson streaks in the sky.

The air was perceptibly cooler, and flights of waterfowl hurried overhead, making their way to the river.

The Chinaman lighted a slush-lamp, by whose flickering light Charlie produced from his swag a small bundle of papers, and threw them on the table.
"We might as well get our business over, Keogh," he said.