The mare had come down right side up, more by good luck than by good
management. She stood deep in the sand, her naturally surprised
expression vastly enhanced. In all her twenty-two years Queenie had
never before gone through such an experience.
"I swan!" ejaculated Cap'n Ira. "Ain't this the beatenest you ever
heard of, Tunis?"
Tunis stared from the old mare to the old mariner, especially at the
cocked revolver in the captain's hand. He pointed at the tightly
gripped weapon.
"What's that for, Cap'n Ira?" he asked.
"I--I--well, I swan!" stammered Cap'n Ira, now looking, himself, at
the old seven-chambered revolver as though he had never seen it
before. "I cal'late it does look sort o' funny to you, Tunis, to
see me come sailing down this way, armed like a pirate."
"I wouldn't call it exactly funny. But it is surprising," admitted
Tunis. "And Queenie looks as surprised as anybody."
"Yes, she does, for a fact," agreed Cap'n Ira, squinting across the
heap of loose sand at the gray mare. "I kind o' wonder what she's
thinking about."
"I'm wondering hard enough myself," put in Tunis pointedly.
"I swan!" murmured Cap'n Ira reflectively.
He carefully lowered the hammer of the pistol, his cane stuck
upright in the sand before him.
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