“Jack first, fellers!” cautioned Josh, “don’t you all crowd the mourners so. Let him take a peek, and then the rest of us c’n feast our eyes on all that bully money and stuff. Keep back, Buster, you ain’t the first in line; that’s George, and me, I’m second choice. Look at the stuff Jack’s a-pullin’ out, would you? Seems like rags or somethin’ like that, to me. Reckon they just stuffed the top of the box full to keep the coin from rattling around like. What’s ailing Jack, fellers? See him a-starin’ in like he seen a ghost. Gee! but it must be a great sight, all that boodle from the bank, to make our partner stare like that. George, get a move on you, and step up. You’re next, you know. No crowdin’, Buster. Keep your place in line, can’t you?”
Jack was indeed standing there, and staring into the opened box as though he had received something of a shock; but over his face there began to creep a semblance of a smile, or a grin, or something of that character, as he held out the box for George to take his turn next.
That was what George said, in a faint voice, as though he was very nearly overcome, after taking his look into the box, Jack holding the same most obligingly all the while.
Of course, even this did not have any effect upon Josh, who was next in line. In fact, if anything, it served to spur him on to all the sooner get his peep-in; wondering at the same time what it could be.
Buster heard Josh give a gasp, as he bent his head down. It must be something wonderfully fetching, to influence all of the boys in that queer way. And consequently Buster, impatient for his turn, actually put out his hand and shoved Josh out of the way.
No sooner had he looked than he too gave evidence of being nearly overcome.
“Great governor! somebody hold me. I’m going to faint!” was what Buster whispered; and this suspicious remark made Andy want to get out of line, only that Herb, coming last, would not allow such a thing, but actually shoved the other up until he just had to do his duty and look.
Andy threw up both hands as he exclaimed, perhaps in a louder voice than was really discreet:
“Tare and ounds! Be the powers, ’tware a grave afther all, so it was!”
“What’s that?” quivered from the lips of Herb, as he now hesitated in turn.