“I’m good for a two week’s tramp, and I ask it as a special favor, Wetzel, that you let me take your place.”
“I’ve a great notion to foller that girl, and I don’t see how Abe can do much, as he must be about used up now.”
“Why not both of you go?” queried Stuart.
Both Wetzel and Abe shook their heads.
“It won’t do,” replied the former. “There mustn’t be over two in pursuit. Just as sure as there are, they won’t do nothing. No sir—it won’t do.”
“Two is just the number that is needed,” added Abe.
“You can go, Abe,” said Wetzel, after a moment’s reflection. “It hurts my feelings to back out, but I don’t believe you would ask to go unless there was some good idee in your head. If you can draw a sight on that Pete Johnson, just make it your special duty to wipe him out from the face of the universe!”
It was agreed by Moffat that he would rise at the earliest sign of morn, awake Kingman, and the two pass noiselessly out into the forest without disturbing the others. Each was provided with a rifle, some thirty charges of powder, and a piece of jerked venison sufficient to last them several days.
At a late hour the men departed from Edward’s house to their homes.
As the night settled over the village, it was still and motionless, as though all were wrapped in the profoundest slumber. Not a soul was moving save the few sentinels, conversing together and exchanging their places at long intervals.