"Now then" said Dodge, as he seated himself firmly on his saddle and mentally noted the probable speed of Mr. Grabley's horse; "sharpen your pencil and begin with a D: have you got that down?— O: got it?—D—G—E." Mr. Nailem's eyes opened very widely as he ended also with a D.—
"Dodge!" stuttered Mr. Nailem—"Arrest him Grabley."
Mr. Grabley produced the writ, and was about executing it, when Dodge suggested, in a quiet and collected manner, the propriety of examining it further. On doing so, the bailiff found, to his dismay, that he had been provided with a wrong one. Dodge was in his glory. The lawyer was beaten on his own ground. Turning sharply on the bailiff, who was not recovered from his surprise, Dodge dealt him a smart blow which threw him from his saddle, and then putting spurs to his horse he rode through the town at full speed, shouting, at the top of his voice," Whoo-oop—whoo-oop—hurra!—I'll show you the road to "Westernport!—hurra!"
"With several such anecdotes Dodge wiled away the time, they were drifting down the creek, and so pleasantly too, that they found themselves in the bay of Westernport much sooner than they expected: it was a large expanse of water, and the tide had not long turned, but even then a few of the mud-banks, which render its navigation so difficult, could be distinguished. The low shores of French Island just rose above the level of the flats, whilst further inland stood some hills capped with high trees. Several dense columns of smoke mounted up near the shore, which attracted the attention of the boat's crew. "The mangrove burners are lighting up fresh fires, I see," said Dodge; "there are two riving over there, they are the only inhabitants on the island. I put in there the other day for water, and was surprised to find a notice stuck up on a post at the entrance of the hut to the following effect.
