“It wasn’t the storm hindered me. I have lost my assistant and cannot get along very well alone.”
“Lost your assistant?” queried Joseph Morris. “What happened to him? He wasn’t hurt, was he?”
“No. Early in the morning a negro came to tell him that his father was sick and not expected to live, and that he must come home at once. Under the circumstances there was nothing to do but to let him go, even though he had engaged with me for six weeks longer. This has left me alone and I must confess I hardly know how to manage.”
“It’s too bad,” said Mr. Morris. “Cannot you find another assistant somewhere around here?”
“I do not know of anybody. I was up at Denton’s and over to Moran’s but neither of those settlers could help me out. I was almost certain I could get Moran’s son, but he has gone off on a hunt, and there is no telling when he will be back.”
“Why not give me a chance, Mr. Washington?” cried Dave, impulsively. “I would like to help you very much.”
At this enthusiastic outburst the surveyor smiled. “I was thinking you might offer yourself the moment I saw you,” he said. “You see, I haven’t forgotten what you said the other day, when I was showing you my instruments.”
“I will work with you if my uncle will let me stay,” went on Dave, readily. “In fact I would like nothing better. I’ve thought of it half a dozen times since I’ve been to Annapolis.”
“As I said before, it is no easy task, David, and one must be careful or run the risk of imperiling one’s life.”
“I would be careful. Uncle Joe knows I am a good climber—isn’t that so, Uncle Joe?”