“Oh! you are going away?� interrupted Dick. “When, Cousin Mayo?�
“Early this fall, I hope; as soon as some business matters can be arranged. I’ve been wanting to be in the army from the first.�
“I said you would go. It wasn’t true you wanted to stay at home playing with birds.�
Mr. Osborne looked at Dick and started to ask a question, but it did not seem worth while. So he merely said: “When I leave, I’m going to ask your father to let you stay here at Larkland with your Cousin Polly and help her with the doves, our doves of war.�
“Thank you, Cousin Mayo; I’ll do my best,� promised Dick.
Mr. Osborne wrote a note and fastened it to the bird’s leg—that was always part of the ceremony; then he put it into a makeshift cage, an old shoe box with holes punched in it, and gave it to Dick.
“Where are you going?� asked Mr. Osborne.
“To the mine—creek,� said Dick, almost telling his secret. It was hard not to give a forthright answer to his cousin’s direct look.
“Why don’t you boys—do you?—ever go to the Old Sterling Mine?�
“Maybe so. Sometimes,� he mumbled.