CHAPTER III.
THE DARK CLOUD BURSTS.
“Are you certain?” asked Haverland, with a painful eagerness.
“As sure as I live!”
“How? when? where did you see them? Pray, answer quick, for I feel that the lives of precious ones stand in peril.”
“The facts are few—they are. When I went down to the spring, I seed them pesky varmints thar, and I knowed they war waitin’ for your little booty, ’cause if they wa’n’t, they’d have walloped me thunderin’ soon. I seed ’em sneaking ’round, and purtended as though I didn’t ’spicion nothin’. They’ve found I’s about, and have gone down for more help. They’ll be back here to-night with a whole pack. Fact, by gracious!”
“You speak truly; and, as matters stand thus, it is time for action.”
“Exactly so; and what is it you propose to dew?”
“As you have afforded me such signal aid thus far, I must again ask you for advice.”
“Pshaw! don’t you know what to dew, man?”