"'Sblood!" exclaimed Jonathan, hastily thrusting the ring into his vest, and taking up a heavy horseman's pistol with which he had felled Blueskin,—"I thought you'd been senseless. There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it. Wary they might be. ’ Gerald unfolded his arms and threw his hands in the air. An extra pair of gym clothes materialized within fractions of a second. Here was one of those Americans who would make him breathless before sundown. Baffled in their attempt, the mob uttered a roar, such as only a thousand angry voices can utter, and discharged a volley of missiles at the soldiery.
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