“Say Jake, won’t you ask us in to have something warm to drink?” cried another Vigilant.
Watson edged a trifle nearer to Hare, and whispered: “Send ’em away at once, or else——”
Once bring the Vigilants into the house, as the soldier knew, and capture or death would be the result.
Hare could almost feel the cold muzzle of the revolver near his head.
“Go away, fellows,” he called, “You know I ain’t got nothing for you.”
A jeer, and a few sarcastic groans greeted this remark. “I always reckoned you was a skinflint,” yelled one of the party.
There was a derisive cheer at this sally. Then, at a word of command, the Vigilants turned their horses and cantered back towards Jasper. The sound of hoofs became fainter and fainter.
“Shut the door,” ordered Watson, “and go back to the kitchen.”
Sullenly the farmer obeyed. When the two were once more by the blazing hearth, George and Macgreggor, who had been guarding Mrs. Hare and the negress, rushed forward to grasp the hands of their deliverer. They were about to congratulate him upon his successful nerve and diplomacy when he interrupted them.
“Don’t bother about that,” he said; “let us get away from here as soon as possible, before our kind host has a chance to play us any more tricks.”