The old man was standing in his doorway at the time, and his manner was even more jerky than usual. Douglas, outside, was conscious of the frank scrutiny of two women at a near-by window—Uncle Eb’s wife and spinster daughter, both intelligent-looking but decidedly plain of feature. Uncle Eb, too, seemed aware of listening ears, for he left his stoop and walked to the road, out of hearing. He asked no question, but his move was an obvious invitation to tell why Nat and Snake were wanted. And, briefly, Douglas did.
“The varmints!” Eb muttered fiercely. “The murderin’ snakes! They’d oughter be shot! Only for ye bein’ away they’d got ye. They’re a-layin’ low now ’cause they know ye’re a-trackin’ ’em. By mighty, boy, ye must have a good angel a-watchin’ out for ye, sendin’ ye out that day an’ all! Ye’d oughter change yer bed now—mebbe change yer house too. I ain’t soop’stitious, but ther’ ain’t no good luck into that house o’ Jake’s.”
Douglas wavered, half minded to tell him of his previous change in sleeping quarters and of the mysterious missive of warning. But he held his tongue. Such disclosures would do no good. Instead, he shifted the subject.
“Maybe so, but I’m not moving out yet. By the way, I saw those two detectives the other day. They say they’ll get what they’re after.”
Uncle Eb scowled. After a glance around he whispered:
“Son, I’m right worried. This is turrible weather for that boy to lay up into the rocks. He ain’t tough now—he was into the pen three year, ye know, an’ that weakens a feller—specially us hill fellers that’s used to lots o’ air. I dasn’t bring him back down here—I dasn’t go nigh him—for fear them detectives’ll git to him; they been round here two-three times, a-watchin’ an’ a-layin’ low. But I wisht he could git under cover some’rs. I hear he’s got a misery onto his chest already.”
The younger man frowned in concern. Comfortably clad though he was, he felt the raw bite of the air; his ungloved fingers, in fact, were partly numbed. And Steve, cowering among those clammy bowlders, unable to risk a fire—why, the boy was barefoot!
“D’ye s’pose, now, ye could toll them fellers out o’ the Traps for good?” Eb suggested hopefully. “Ye fooled ’em deef, dumb an’ blind that time they was right onto his back. Mebbe ye could——”
He paused. Douglas reluctantly shook his head.
“Afraid not. They know now that I’m on Steve’s side. It wouldn’t work. But—I’ll see if I can think of something.”