human
Mighty little time, I calculate, had he to think of aggravatin', when I gripped him down at Hartley's pint, that day. If it hadn't been for that old heathen scoundrel Gattrie, my poor boy Phil, as the Injuns killed, and me, I reckon, would have sent him and young Grantham to crack their puns upon the fishes of the lake. How scared they were, sure-LY.
gpt
Silence, fellow! thundered Gerald Grantham, who now came up from the hold, whither he had been to examine the fastenings prepared for his prisoner.
human
How dare you open your lips here? --then pointing towards the steps he had just quitted--