'What's that ?' 'Fragile.

With care.

This side up,' replied the clerk with a wink, as he disappeared.
He returned, smiling to himself, and carrying in his hand a silk handkerchief.

The long stupid wrinkles ran up Davis's brow, as he saw it.

What should it contain?
He could think of nothing more recondite than a revolver.
Huish resumed his seat.
'Now,' said he, 'are you man enough to take charge of 'Errick and the niggers?
Because I'll take care of Hattwater.' 'How ?' cried Davis.