In the morning Henry had said to his mother: “Ma, could you get supper earlier than usual to-night? Will and I want to go out about sundown. We’ll tell you all about it afterwards.”
Mrs. Mortimer supposed, of course, that everything was all right, and never thought of questioning them as to whither they were going. She, good soul, promised to get an early supper on purpose for them, and even proposed that they should take some eatables with them. The boys heartily agreed to this—not that they cared to eat on the way; but they thought it would become them, as armed heroes, to take along a knapsack of food.
When supper was announced the impatient knights-errant hastily ate it. Then Henry put some tempting sandwiches—the eatables his kind mother had prepared—into his satchel, or knapsack, and called to Will to get ready.
“Now, Will,” he said, as they flew up stairs to his room, “we must hurry like a train of cars behind time. It is getting late, and you must load the pistols as fast as you can, while I change my boots. Here is everything you want in this drawer, and you know just where to lay your hand on whatever you want.”
“Oh, yes,” said Will.
“See, Will, here’s a big jack-knife for you, and another for me. They’re the toughest and grittiest old fellows you ever saw; stick this one into your pocket.”
So they armed their persons with these formidable and bulky knives. Did they expect to kill anyone, or to be killed themselves?
Will felt no uneasiness about taking a pocket-knife, however big it might be; but he looked at the pistols with awe.
“You secured the compass before supper?” asked Henry.
“Yes.”