Page:Hugh Pendexter--Tiberius Smith.djvu/157

 "But, sir, the minute we tried to turn we were surrounded. And what do you suppose those oddities were armed with? Pikes, sir, pikes! And that was what the smithy was busy turning out. As a rule, Tib's air of confidence would incite a cowardly pug-dog to throw rocks at an elephant, but he was a bit puzzled over this situation. We'd met lots of heathens and irresponsible persons in our day, but once you realized their status you could dope out their susceptibilities and comprehend the logical trend of their intentions. But a score of incompetents might glide from one personality to another at any second and pluck us from one epoch only to plant us in another, and in every event would probably insist that we hold the most onery cards and be soundly spanked. "‘It's no use. Earl of Argyle, to dodge our identity,' remarked Tib, to me, gravely. Then to the king, 'Yes, I am Monmouth, your dutiful nephew, come all the way from Brabant to kiss your august hand.'

"The crowd of peasants jeered at this admission, and one stalwart rogue seemed determined to explore our physical systems with his long prodder. 'Nay, nay,' prohibited the king. 'Their seeming frankness shall avail them naught, but retribution must overtake them in an orderly manner. My Lord Chief-Justice Jeffreys shall try them. In the