Poor knights-errant! They were not armed even so well as Henry imagined. In case of an attack from the demon, all that they could rely on would be their jack-knives.
Unconscious of his mistake, Will observed, with a sigh of relief, “There, they’re loaded! I’m not much used to loading pistols, Henry; but I know better than to put the balls in first!”
“Then why didn’t you say so before?” Henry demanded, as he stepped into the room. “You are too nervous, Will; you ought to take things coolly, as I do. Of course the pistols are all right; but let me see them.”
Taking them up, he said, with an amused smile: “It’s pretty dark here, Will, but I think I could see the caps, if they were on!”
“Oh!” was all poor Will could say.
Henry hurried to his drawer, found his box of caps, and speedily remedied Will’s neglect. But he did not see the mistake Will had made about the balls.
Then each boy thrust a pistol into his coat pocket, and looked every inch a redoubtable hero.
“Never mind shutting up the drawer, Will; never mind doing anything;” Henry cried impatiently. “It is nearly a quarter to seven; so let us hurry, and we’ll swoop down on the demon just in the nick of time.”
As they passed out of the house, Henry’s little sister asked where they were going.