Hum! I don’t know that. There’s no dependin’ on a dog to keep his tongue quiet in times o’ danger.”
“Believe me,” exclaimed Dick, flashing with enthusiasm, “Crusoe’s more trustworthy than I am myself. If ye can trust the master, ye’re safe to trust the pup.”
“Well, lad, ye may be right. We’ll take him.”
“Thanks, Joe. And who else goes with us?”
“I’ve bin castin’ that in my mind for some time, an’ I’ve fixed to take Henri. He’s not the safest man in the valley, but he’s the truest, that’s a fact. And now, youngster, get yer horse and rifle ready, and come to the block-house at daybreak to-morrow. Good luck to ye, mistriss, till we meet agin.”
Joe Blunt rose, and taking up his rifle—without which he scarcely ever moved a foot from his own door—left the cottage with rapid strides.
“My son,” said Mrs. Varley, kissing Dick’s cheek as he resumed his seat, “put this in the little pocket I made for it in your hunting-shirt.” She handed him a pocket Bible.
“Dear mother,” he said, as he placed the book carefully within the breast of his coat, “the Redskin that takes that from me must take my scalp first. But don’t fear for me. You’ve often said the Lord would protect me. So He will, mother, for sure it’s an errand o’ peace.”
“Ay, that’s it, that’s it,” murmured the widow.
Dick Varley spent that night in converse with his mother, and next morning at daybreak he was at the place of meeting, mounted on his sturdy little horse, with the “silver rifle” on his shoulder and Crusoe by his side.
“That’s right, lad, that’s right. Nothin’ like keepin’ yer time,” said Joe, as he led out a pack-horse from the gate of the block-house, while his own charger was held ready saddled by a man named Daniel Brand, who had charge of the block-house in his absence.
“Where’s Henri? Oh, here he comes!” exclaimed Dick, as the hunter referred to came thundering up the slope at a charge, on a horse that resembled its rider in size and not a little in clumsiness of appearance.
“Ah! mes boy. Him is a goot one to go,” cried Henri, remarking Dick’s smile as he pulled up. “No hoss on de plain can beat dis one, surement.”
“Now then, Henri, lend a hand to fix this pack; we’ve no time to palaver.”
