After a short time William changed roles with Ginger, and Ginger tried to hit the matches as they came out. Spirited recrimination, insult and
counter-insult, were hurled over the road.
‘Fancy not hittin’ that one!’ said William. ‘Well, I c’n hardly believe you din’t hit that one. It’s the biggest match I’ve
ever seen in all my life. I don’t see how you could help hittin’ that one. Almost as big as a rollin’ pin.’
‘ Well! ’ said Ginger. ‘Well, I like that. I’ve hit hundreds more’n you hit. Thousands. An’ that – why, it was the teeniest,
teeniest match I’ve ever seen. Not much bigger’n a pin.’
‘Well, jus’ fancy not hittin’ that great big, enormous match. Butter-fingers!’
They met joyfully in the middle of the road and were only separated by a motor car, which took the corner at a terrific speed and narrowly missed putting an end to all further exploits of the
Outlaws. They picked themselves up from the road, their original quarrel forgotten in a joint fury against the driver of the car.
‘Serve him right if he’d killed us,’ said Ginger, ‘an’ got hung for it.’
‘No,’ said William. ‘I bet it’d be more fun for him not to get hung – but for us to haunt him. I bet if he’d killed us an’ we’d turned into
ghosts, we could have had awful fun haunting him – I say’ – warming to his theme – ‘I bet it would be as much fun as anythin ’ we’ve ever done,
hauntin’ someone, groanin’ an’ rattlin’ chains an’ scarin’ ’em an’ jumpin’ out at ’em an’ such like.’
‘Wouldn’t he be mad ?’ chuckled Ginger. ‘An’ he cun’t do anything to us ’cause you can’t to a ghost. When you hit ’em, the hit
sort of goes through ’em, an’ if they run after you, an’ catch you, the catch sort of goes through you, an’ anyway they’re all scared stiff of jus’ lookin ’ at you. Won’t it be fun to have everyone scared stiff of jus’ lookin ’ at you. I can think,’ he went on meditatively, ‘of quite a lot
of people I’d like to haunt when I’m dead – Ole Markie an’ Farmer Jenks an’ people like that. I bet it’d be more fun bein’ a ghost than anythin ’ – even a pirate.’
‘I dunno,’ said Douglas, ‘they can’t eat. Jus’ think of not bein’ able to eat. Jus’ think of seein’ sweet shop windows full
of sweets an’ being able to get through doors an’ things so’s you could go into sweet shops at night when there was no one there lookin’ after ’em and yet not be able
to eat. ’
‘Are you sure you can’t eat?’ said Ginger anxiously.
‘Yes,’ said Douglas with great solemnity, ‘I know you can’t. You put out your hand to take up a sweet an’ your hand sort of keeps goin’ through
’em and can’t pick ’em up.’
The Outlaws shuddered at this horrible prospect.
‘If you’re a pirate or a robber chief or even a Red Injun,’ went on Douglas, ‘it’s jus’ as excitin’ an’ you can eat.’
The Outlaws agreed that on the whole it would be better to be pirates or robber chiefs or Red Indians than ghosts and returned to the pastime in which the passage of the motor car had disturbed
them.
‘Now go on,’ William admonished Ginger, ‘see if you c’n hit a match what’s almost as big as – a – as a – as a – telegraph pole,’ he
said with a burst of inspiration; ‘see if—’
Douglas interrupted.
‘I’m gettin’ a bit sick of umpirin’,’ he said.
‘All right,’ said William generously. ‘All right. You can change places with Ginger an’ Ginger umpire for a bit an’ you hit – I bet you c’n hit
better’n him. ’
Ginger showed proper spirit in resenting this insult till the passage of another motor – at a more leisurely pace – again separated them. The driver leant over his seat, cursed them
soundly and shook his fist at them. The Outlaws sitting in the dust by the roadside whither they had roiled on the approach of the car
counter-insult, were hurled over the road.
‘Fancy not hittin’ that one!’ said William. ‘Well, I c’n hardly believe you din’t hit that one. It’s the biggest match I’ve
ever seen in all my life. I don’t see how you could help hittin’ that one. Almost as big as a rollin’ pin.’
‘ Well! ’ said Ginger. ‘Well, I like that. I’ve hit hundreds more’n you hit. Thousands. An’ that – why, it was the teeniest,
teeniest match I’ve ever seen. Not much bigger’n a pin.’
‘Well, jus’ fancy not hittin’ that great big, enormous match. Butter-fingers!’
They met joyfully in the middle of the road and were only separated by a motor car, which took the corner at a terrific speed and narrowly missed putting an end to all further exploits of the
Outlaws. They picked themselves up from the road, their original quarrel forgotten in a joint fury against the driver of the car.
‘Serve him right if he’d killed us,’ said Ginger, ‘an’ got hung for it.’
‘No,’ said William. ‘I bet it’d be more fun for him not to get hung – but for us to haunt him. I bet if he’d killed us an’ we’d turned into
ghosts, we could have had awful fun haunting him – I say’ – warming to his theme – ‘I bet it would be as much fun as anythin ’ we’ve ever done,
hauntin’ someone, groanin’ an’ rattlin’ chains an’ scarin’ ’em an’ jumpin’ out at ’em an’ such like.’
‘Wouldn’t he be mad ?’ chuckled Ginger. ‘An’ he cun’t do anything to us ’cause you can’t to a ghost. When you hit ’em, the hit
sort of goes through ’em, an’ if they run after you, an’ catch you, the catch sort of goes through you, an’ anyway they’re all scared stiff of jus’ lookin ’ at you. Won’t it be fun to have everyone scared stiff of jus’ lookin ’ at you. I can think,’ he went on meditatively, ‘of quite a lot
of people I’d like to haunt when I’m dead – Ole Markie an’ Farmer Jenks an’ people like that. I bet it’d be more fun bein’ a ghost than anythin ’ – even a pirate.’
‘I dunno,’ said Douglas, ‘they can’t eat. Jus’ think of not bein’ able to eat. Jus’ think of seein’ sweet shop windows full
of sweets an’ being able to get through doors an’ things so’s you could go into sweet shops at night when there was no one there lookin’ after ’em and yet not be able
to eat. ’
‘Are you sure you can’t eat?’ said Ginger anxiously.
‘Yes,’ said Douglas with great solemnity, ‘I know you can’t. You put out your hand to take up a sweet an’ your hand sort of keeps goin’ through
’em and can’t pick ’em up.’
The Outlaws shuddered at this horrible prospect.
‘If you’re a pirate or a robber chief or even a Red Injun,’ went on Douglas, ‘it’s jus’ as excitin’ an’ you can eat.’
The Outlaws agreed that on the whole it would be better to be pirates or robber chiefs or Red Indians than ghosts and returned to the pastime in which the passage of the motor car had disturbed
them.
‘Now go on,’ William admonished Ginger, ‘see if you c’n hit a match what’s almost as big as – a – as a – as a – telegraph pole,’ he
said with a burst of inspiration; ‘see if—’
Douglas interrupted.
‘I’m gettin’ a bit sick of umpirin’,’ he said.
‘All right,’ said William generously. ‘All right. You can change places with Ginger an’ Ginger umpire for a bit an’ you hit – I bet you c’n hit
better’n him. ’
Ginger showed proper spirit in resenting this insult till the passage of another motor – at a more leisurely pace – again separated them. The driver leant over his seat, cursed them
soundly and shook his fist at them. The Outlaws sitting in the dust by the roadside whither they had roiled on the approach of the car
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