Henry was wrong in being ashamed of his firearms. They were very neat and highly ornamented pocket-pistols, which his father had given to him some years before, under a promise not to use them till he should be old enough to do so with safety. He had strictly kept that promise.
There was nothing wrong with them; but Henry got out his father’s oil can, and the two boys toiled over them for upwards of an hour. The oil in the little can ran low, and a pile of greasy rags rose beside them; but when they at last desisted from their labors, a sweet smile of content lit up their grimy features, and unthinkingly they drew out their handkerchiefs.
“Oh!” cried Will with a look of dismay.
“Never mind,” said Henry, composedly. “Just keep yours, and I’ll keep mine, and they’ll make the very best kind of a slate-cloth, and when they get worn out for that, the ragman will buy them at a cent a pound. Now, Will, just look at these pistols; they are as clean as a snow-storm!”
This sublime comparison restored Will’s cheerfulness, and together they wended their way outside to wash.
“Will,” he said, “to show you how very careful I am, we won’t load this pair of pistols till just before we go. All the accidents you read about in the newspapers come from loaded pistols and revolvers lying around loose; so we’ll cheat fate, and not load them till the last minute. And,” he added, “to be still more careful, you may load them both yourself.”
But where Will was concerned, Fate was not to be cheated so easily; in fact, on this occasion, Henry was “only playing into her hands.”
For some reason, neither of the boys said anything to Mr. or Mrs. Mortimer about their intended expedition, wishing, according to their account, to have a “tale to tell” the next morning. Although they kept saying to each other that they would be doing nothing wrong, it is probable they feared Mr. Mortimer might think they would be better at home than at the Demon’s Cave. To do them justice, it must be stated that neither meditated doing any harm; they wished only to effect an entrance into the cave. They were certain that they would reach home by bedtime; and then, the affair being all over, they could narrate their adventures at their leisure. They were observing boys, and knew well enough that when they returned in triumph and safety, their little prank would be excused; and far from being blamed, they would be regarded with admiration—even lionized.
Yes, Will and Henry were wise in their day and generation.