"_Nix_ cum-a-rouse!" disagreed the old prospecter. "I'm hayr, an'
thar's no yearthly use o' denyin _that_. Barrin' ye ar' a right
peart-lookin' kid, stranger, allow me ter speculate thet it would take
a dozen, more or less--consider'bly less uv more than more o'
less--ter put me out."

Redburn laughed heartily. The old fellow's bravado amused him. Anita
however, was silent; she put dependence in her protector to arrange
matters satisfactorily.

"That savors strongly of rebellion," Redburn observed, sitting down
upon a lounge that stood hard by. "Besides, you have an advantage; I
would not attack you; you are old and unfitted for combat; deformed
and unable to do battle."

"Exactly!" the "General" confidently announced.

"What good can come of your remaining here?" demanded Anita.

"Sit down, marm, sit down, an I'll perceed ter divest myself uv w'at
little information I've got stored up in my noddle. Ye see, mum, my
name's Walsingham Nix, at yer sarvice--Walsingham bein' my great,
great grandad's fronticepiece, while Nix war ther hind-wheeler, like
nor w'at a he-mule ar' w'en hitched ter a 'schooner.' Ther Nix family
were a great one, bet yer false teeth; originated about ther time
Joner swallered the whale, down nigh Long Branch, and 've bin handed
down frum time ter time till ye behold in me ther last surrivin'
pilgrim frum ther ancestral block. Thar was one remarkable
pecooliarity about ther Nix family, frum root ter stump, an' ther war,