You may be certain that neither Bob nor Jim had anything truthful to tell about their meeting with the young man. McGovern stated that he lost his way, and, finding the hour was so late, decided to put off his revenge until a more favorable time. He took care to keep the marks of Bowser’s teeth from the sight of the others, and he was therefore vexed by no annoying questions.
Bob explained that he had been looking for Dick Halliard, and wondered that he did not meet him. The news given by his brother Rangers showed that the doomed youth was elsewhere that evening, which, the bully added, was mighty lucky for him.
When Wagstaff commented on the bruised appearance of Bob’s face, he replied that he ran against the trunk of a tree in the woods, and then he hastened to change the conversation.
“To-morrow we shall have our hunt, boys,” he said, with glowing face, “and here’s success to it!”
The others eagerly joined in the toast, for the reason that they never refused to join in any toast presented.
“You think we’re going to have good weather?” remarked Tom.
“There’s no doubt of it. I asked old Swipes, Carter, and the prophets, and they all agree that the weather will be prime for several days to come.”
“If that’s to be the case, the best thing for us to do is to sleep while we can, so as to be up early in the morning.”
The suggestion was so eminently wise that it was adopted without further delay.
The following morning was one after a hunter’s own heart. The air was crisp and cool, but not sufficiently so to be chilly, nor was it mild enough to render oppressive the slight exertion of walking.