Waggie wagged his tail with great violence.
“Think of a warm, comfortable bed,” observed the boy, with a sort of grim humor; “and a nice supper beforehand of meat—and eggs——”
“And hot coffee—and biscuits—and a pipe of tobacco for me, after the supper,” went on Watson. He turned from the river and peered into the rapidly increasing gloom. About a mile inland, almost directly in front of him, there shone a cheerful light.
George, who also saw the gleam, rubbed his hands across his empty stomach, in a comical fashion.
“There must be supper there,” he said, pointing to the house.
“But we don’t dare eat it,” replied his friend. “The people within fifty miles of here will be on the lookout for any of Andrews’ party—and the mere appearance of us will be enough to arouse suspicion—and yet——”
Watson hesitated; he was in a quandary. He was not a bit frightened, but he felt that the chances of escape for George and himself were at the ratio of one to a thousand. He knew actually nothing of the geography of the surrounding country, and he felt that as soon as morning arrived the neighborhood would be searched far and wide. Had he been alone he might have tried to walk throughout the night until he had placed fifteen or twenty miles between himself and his pursuers. But when he thought of George’s condition he realized that it would be a physical impossibility to drag the tired lad very far.
Finally Watson started away towards the distant light.
“Stay here till I get back,” he said to George; “I’m going to explore.”
In less than an hour he had returned to the river’s bank.