“First tell us how you feel?” said Dave.
“Fust-rate, Dave, fust-rate. I had a mighty bad spell o’ it though—somethin’ like a nightmare—an’ the doctor says as how I aint quite strong enough yit to walk around much. Lost some o’ my ha’r, too,” the old hunter added, pointing to the scar over his ear. “But thet don’t count—I’m thankful to pull through with my life.”
“We can all be thankful,” said Henry.
“How is it you air free, Henry?” went on the frontiersman, and on being told he slapped his thigh in satisfaction. “Thet’s splenderiferous news. The folks ter hum will be glad to hear on it.”
“That they will,” answered Henry, “and I have already sent them a letter.”
“Be you goin’ home soon?”
“Just as soon as we can obtain our discharge and as soon as you can go with us, Sam,” answered Dave.
“Me?”
“To be sure. We wouldn’t go home without you; you know that.”
“I might hev knowed it, Dave.” A tear glistened in the old hunter’s eye, and he took their hands again. “Both my boys, aint ye?—through thick an’ thin!”