"
"You don't say so! Wait a minute, though; there's one thing--you're not
troubled with the hiccups, are you, after eating supper? (I've been a
martyr to hiccups ever since I was a child.) But, I say, there's one
thing you haven't told me yet; you haven't told me what your other name
is besides Mat. Mine's Thorpe."
"I haven't heard the sound of the other name you're asking after for a
matter of better than twenty year: and I don't care if I never hear it
again." His voice sank huskily, and he turned his head a little away
from Zack, as he said those words. "They nicknamed me 'Marksman,' when
I used to go out with the exploring gangs, because I was the best shot
of all of them. You call me Marksman, too, if you don't like Mat.
Mister Mathew Marksman, if you please: everybody seems to be a 'Mister'
here. You're one, of course. I don't mean to call you 'Mister' for all
that. I shall stick to Zack; it's short, and there's no bother about
it."
"All right, old fellow! and I'll stick to Mat, which is shorter still
by a whole letter. But, I say, you haven't told the story yet about how
you lost your scalp."
"There's no story in it, Do you know what it is to have a man dodging
after you through these odds and ends of streets here? I dare say you
do.
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