"Only my darbies," returned Jack, clinking his chains. It disgusts me that you should touch me. Of course, I don't believe she's what you would call flush. Spurlock slumped in his chair, weak and empty. Darell's peculiar bent of mind was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt and cartouch-box, with other matters evincing a decided military taste. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school.
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