She laid the coin aside and assured the donor that his wishes should be carried out.
Chester spoke:
“It seems to me we are throwing away time. It is past midnight and here we sit talking, and doing nothing because there seems nothing to do. What do you think, Alvin?”
“You are right. This business doesn’t seem to have stirred up the town. I don’t suppose anyone knows what has happened except Mr. Buxton and his family, and I don’t think he will tell the particulars himself.”
“That can be lift to Jim,” said Mike, “onless his dad imprisses upon him that it won’t be healthy for him to talk too freely wid his mouth regarding the sarcus he obsarved this avening.”
“The lookout in front ran off at the first sign of danger, and if there was a second one he ran too. It will be a long time before any member of that party pays Beartown a second visit.”
Alvin now made known the fear in his mind—a fear that was shared by Chester. The Deerfoot was lying against the bank in Back River exposed to any injury which these criminals might choose to inflict by way of revenge. He proposed that the mother and daughter, after refastening the window and locking up, should retire to their beds, while the boys returned to the launch to make sure no harm befell it.
This course was only the commonest prudence, but the hostess and her daughter were clearly so nervous over being left alone for the remainder of the night that Alvin regretted his proposal. Nora especially did not try to hide her distress.
“Never mind,” Alvin made haste to say, “we will wait till morning. You have been so kind that we cannot willingly cause you a moment’s pain.”
“May I make a suggistion?” asked Mike, speaking so seriously that all knew he was about to say something worth while.