“Mf! It’s a very tough question, ain’t it! Yes , sir, I k’n tell you what’s tattooed on his breast. It’s jest a small, thin, blue arrow⁠—that’s what it is; and if you don’t look clost, you can’t see it. now what do you say⁠—hey?”

Well, I never see anything like that old blister for clean out-and-out cheek.

The new old gentleman turns brisk towards Ab Turner and his pard, and his eye lights up like he judged he’d got the king this time, and says:

“There⁠—you’ve heard what he said! Was there any such mark on Peter Wilks’ breast?”