They went along together after that But neither of them spoke for half-a-mile, Then finally, Jim said, half-diffidently, “You know who we air goin’ to fight outside? I heard it was the British. Air that so?” “Hell, no,” said Luke, with scorn. He puckered his brows. “Dunno’s I rightly know just who they air.” He admitted finally, “But ’tain’t the British. It’s some trash-lot of furriners, that’s shore. They call ’em Yankees near as I kin make it, But they ain’t Injuns neither.” “Well,” said Jim Soothingly, “Reckon it don’t rightly matter Long as the Kelceys take the other side.”