"Oh, yes; I did see him," said Golcher, as though the incident was so slight that he had forgotten it for the time: "he fought well."
"Was he—was he—Oh, Jake, tell me?—was he hurt?"
"I don't think he got so much as a scratch; he was with three or four others, and they were getting in the best kind of work; but you know it was no use for any one; I saw that they would be shot down where they stood, so I ran up and told your father to follow me; you know that nobody dare touch him when I took charge. I led him and his friends back toward the mountains and stayed by them till all danger was over, and then I bade them good-bye: if they have taken the least care and done as I told them to do, they are a great deal safer than you are at this very minute."
Maggie Brainerd's heart sank within her. She knew that the story that Jake Golcher had just told her was without an iota of truth. He had lied so clumsily that he had not deceived her at all.
The very question which he had asked about her parent was proof that he had not seen him, and therefore could know nothing of him.
The young lady was shocked, but she was helpless. Her duty was to do her utmost for the safety of those who were now with her, and she was sure that Golcher could give great help, if he chose to do so.
"Jake," said she, speaking with all the earnestness of her nature, "this is a dreadful day for Wyoming; I can hardly realize what has taken place; I do not believe that any one on this side of the river is safe."
"Of course he isn't—that is, none of the rebels is; our folks are all right."
"Can you save us?"
"I don't know what's to hinder—that is, if I take the notion, but I don't feel like doing much for that spitfire of an aunt, that insulted me the last time that I called at your house."