“What?”
“I heerd a pack o’ horses go by in the middle o’ the night. They turned into Muirhead’s woods. I heerd some one say, ‘Keep quiet, boys, can’t ye?’ I’ll bet it was them.”
“Where do you suppose they have taken him? Will they hurt him?”
“Reckon not. They’re after the will. I rayther think Hump’ll take him to his place and hide him somewheres, drug him maybe, and get holt o’ the will, then he’ll brazen it out that there wa’n’t none, an’ never had been.”
“But we’ve all seen it.”
“Don’t make no difference; he’ll say that it’s a scheme to defraud him, an’ he’ll bring a lawsuit, an’ ef they ain’t no proof, likely he hopes to win it. It’s jest like his contrivin’. Oh, I know Hump Muirhead from A to izard. But we’ll get a holt o’ him. I will count on my boys. Jimmy O’Neill at home?”
“No, he’s gone to the village.”
“Lemme see, then. Your father don’t count. Who’s nearest?”
“David Campbell; but he was going away to-day.”
“I’d like to scare up somebody like Jimmy, but with my three boys an’ any one else I may chanst to git a holt of, I reckon we’ll down ’em. I don’t reckon they was more’n half a dozen in the pack. I kin count Hump Muirhead’s gang on one hand. Well, Nancy, I’ll be off, the sooner the better. S’posin’ you don’t say anything about this to yer mother. She’s new here an’ don’t know the didos these here backwoodsmen kin cut up; besides it’s part her affair, an’ Hump bein’ kin o’ hern, it might make her feel bad. Kin ye keep yer mouth shet?”