- end_line
- 6793
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:26.985Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 6705
- text
- ‘Pardon me, dear uncle; you are wiser than I.’
‘One would think years and gray hairs should bring wisdom, boy.’
‘Yorpy there, dear uncle; think you his grizzled locks thatch a brain
improved by long life?’
‘Am I Yorpy, boy? Keep to your oar!’
Thus padlocked again, I said no further word till the skiff grounded on
the shallows, some twenty yards from the deep-wooded isle.
‘Hush!’ whispered my uncle, intensely; ‘not a word now!’ and he sat
perfectly still, slowly sweeping with his glance the whole country
around, even to both banks of the here wide-expanded stream.
‘Wait till that horseman yonder passes!’ he whispered again, pointing to
a speck moving along a lofty, river-side road, which perilously wound on
midway up a long line of broken bluffs and cliffs. ‘There--he’s out of
sight now, behind the copse. Quick! Yorpy! Carefully, though! Jump
overboard, and shoulder the box, and--Hold!’
We were all mute and motionless again.
‘Ain’t that a boy, sitting like Zaccheus in yonder tree of the orchard
on the other bank? Look, youngster--young eyes are better than
old--don’t you see him?’
‘Dear uncle, I see the orchard, but I can’t see any boy.’
‘He’s a spy--I know he is,’ suddenly said my uncle, disregardful of my
answer, and intently gazing, shading his eyes with his flattened hand.
‘Don’t touch the box, Yorpy. Crouch! crouch down, all of ye!’
‘Why, uncle--there--see--the boy is only a withered white bough. I see
it very plainly now.’
‘You don’t see the tree I mean,’ quoth my uncle, with a decided air of
relief, ‘but never mind; I defy the boy. Yorpy, jump out, and shoulder
the box. And now then, youngster, off with your shoes and stockings,
roll up your trowser-legs, and follow me. Carefully, Yorpy, carefully.
That’s more precious than a box of gold, mind.’
‘Heavy as de gelt, anyhow,’ growled Yorpy, staggering and splashing in
the shallows beneath it.
‘There, stop under the bushes there--in among the flags--so--gently,
gently--there, put it down just there. Now, youngster, are you ready?
Follow--tiptoes, tiptoes!’
‘I can’t wade in this mud and water on my tiptoes, uncle; and I don’t
see the need of it either.’
‘Go ashore, sir--instantly!’
‘Why, uncle, I _am_ ashore.’
‘Peace! follow me, and no more.’
Crouching in the water in complete secrecy, beneath the bushes and among
the tall flags, my uncle now stealthily produced a hammer and wrench
from one of his enormous pockets, and presently tapped the box. But the
sound alarmed him.
‘Yorpy,’ he whispered, ‘go you off to the right, behind the bushes, and
keep watch. If you see anyone coming, whistle softly. Youngster, you do
the same to the left.’
We obeyed; and presently, after considerable hammering and supplemental
tinkering, my uncle’s voice was heard in the utter solitude, loudly
commanding our return.
Again we obeyed, and now found the cover of the box removed. All
eagerness, I peeped in, and saw a surprising multiplicity of convoluted
metal pipes and syringes of all sorts and varieties, all sizes and
calibres, inextricably interwreathed together in one gigantic coil. It
looked like a huge nest of anacondas and adders.
‘Now then, Yorpy,’ said my uncle, all animation, and flushed with the
foretaste of glory, ‘do you stand this side, and be ready to tip when I
give the word. And do you, youngster, stand ready to do as much for the
other side. Mind, don’t budge it the fraction of a barley-corn till I
say the word. All depends on a proper adjustment.’
‘No fear, uncle. I will be careful as a lady’s tweezers.’
‘I s’ant lift de heavy pox,’ growled old Yorpy, ‘till de wort pe given;
no fear o’ dat.’
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