[Devon Boys by George Manville Fenn]@TWC D-Link bookDevon Boys CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN 2/4
Then replacing the ramrod he cocked it, held it at arm's length, and drew the trigger. There was a little scintillation as the flint struck the cover of the pan, and he cocked and drew the trigger again, we two watching him with intense interest, and longing to try the pistol ourselves, but not liking to ask permission. "There, work away!" he said, "save the string, and lay the brown paper in heaps; it may come in useful." We set to work, while my father took a hammer and some large nails from a drawer, and, standing on a stool, drove the nails in a row along a board at one side of the office, and as we unpacked he took the weapons from us and hung them up, a cutlass between two pistols, arranging the nails so that the arms looked ornamental, while at the same time they were quite ready to hand in case they should be wanted. It took us some little time, but at last the task was done, and the cartridge chests stowed away in a cupboard, but not till each one had been carefully wrenched open, the copper nails taken out, and the lids replaced loose on the top. "There, Master Bigley," said my father dryly.
"That's what I call being ready for action." Bigley nodded. "If those boxes were put away unopened, the chances are a hundred to one that on the occasion of their being wanted the chisel and hammer would not be in their places.
Now, then, we'll undo that other box." I could not help seeing, or thinking I saw, a peculiar meaning in my father's way of saying all this, but Bigley did not understand it I felt, and we set to at once over the other chest, dragging it into the middle of the room and prising off the lid, for this one was only nailed. It was not so heavy either, but as we had made up our minds that it contained the uniforms, we were not surprised. The lid was more tightly nailed down than seemed to be necessary; but we had it off at last, and then drew out a dozen parcels, which, on being opened, proved to be white buckskin belts for the waist, with a frog or pouch to hold and support the cutlasses, and a cross belt of a broader kind, to which was attached a cartouche-box, ready to hold the ball-cartridge when required. Another row of nails was driven in for the belts, which were hung in pairs, and then we drew out a couple more boxes of cartridges, and that was all. "Why, what's the matter, Sep ?" said my father, smiling at my disappointed countenance. "I was wondering where the uniforms were," I said. "Uniforms, boy ?" said my father.
"When my two hundred and fifty lads attacked the Spanish frigate and took her, they wore no uniforms.
Every man stripped to his shirt and trousers, put a handkerchief round his waist, threw away his hat, rolled up his sleeves, and tucked up his trousers.
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