“Of course we are although we may be subjected to slight delay in the same. I expect to meet them considerable soon.”
“But how—how shall we do it?”
“Can’t exactly tell yet, but we’ll all larn in due season. They’d get tired of keeping us perhaps after awhile and give us lave to walk away.”
“Do they ever do such things?”
“I can’t say they do,” laughed Teddy, who hardly expected the earnestness manifested in the question. “But as my ould friend Patrick Henry observes, there is no way of judging by the future but by the past, and looking to the past, I axes what has been the conduct of the haythen Injins for the last ten years to give me hope of keeping me for any considerable time in their clutches. I’ve been there before and never staid.”
“But, how has it been with me?”
“Yes, being with me makes the same rule apply to yer own government, so be aisy and don’t worry and fret yourself which there is no good to come from it.”
But Ruth McGowan found it hard work to extract relief from the ingenious sophistries of her companion. Look at it as she might, everything was gloomy and cheerless. Her cherished friends left behind her, instead of being able to come to her rescue, most probably were unable to provide for their own safety. It was therefore vain to look for assistance from that direction.
Perhaps her father and mother were prisoners at that moment—perhaps murdered. And her lover Stoddard Smith—where was he? Free, a captive, or dead? If either of the former, were not his thoughts turned to her, and was he wondering at her situation? Should they ever meet again on earth—or were they now separated forever in this world!
The thought was saddening, and the distressed girl covered her face and wept. Teddy observing her sorrow remained silent awhile, but he was too cheerful himself to allow any unnecessary grief around him.