“Nellie doesn’t weigh enough to make any difference, and I expect to walk most of the distance.”
An unexpected piece of good fortune raised the spirits 283 of the three. To the amazement of all, Cap, the pony, was seen hunting for grass and bearing upon the lame foot with little inconvenience. That which was thought to be a bad sprain was only a wrench, from which he promised speedily to recover.
“He’ll be as well as ever by to-morrow mornin’,” said Vose Adams; “you’ll need to humor him at first, but not for long.”
As has been intimated, the guide remained with them through most of the afternoon, for, if he had gone back to his friends earlier than he did, he would not have dared to offer any excuse for not leading them in the pursuit, and he meant to avert all possibility of that. The reader understands by this time why the guide formulated such an astounding fiction when attempting to explain the cause of his delay. Had his listeners been in cooler mood, they might have tangled him up with a few questions, but their exasperation and disgust prevented.
Before parting with the fugitives, Vose assured them that he was confident their plans could not fail.
“All they’ve got to do,” he reflected, “is to do nothing afore to-morrow and then when the road is open, strike out over the main trail as hard as they can travel. I hope none of them Injins that we had the row with will be pokin’ ’round to-night, for if there’s to be any trouble, it’ll come from them.”
It will be recalled that the story of Adams was received with such coolness that he indignantly resigned and told the captain to run matters himself.
“And he’ll make purty work of it,” chortled Vose “he won’t be able to come within miles of where they are hidin’.”
When the moody silence had lasted for some time, the guide was moved to remark in a more conciliatory spirit: