Dorothea read the letter through rapidly, then, handing it to April, who stood beside her, she addressed the boy.
“When did you get this letter from Captain Tracy?” she demanded in a businesslike tone.
The boy was visibly embarrassed and hung his head.
“I done brung it as fast as I could, considerin’,” he mumbled.
“But when did you get it?” Dorothea repeated impatiently.
“Las’ night,” he answered sullenly; “but I didn’t see no call to go ridin’ in the dark. ’Sides, some o’ them swamps is ha’nted!”
“How far did you ride?” April asked. She had read Val Tracy’s letter and realized the well-nigh hopeless situation in which her lover stood; but she wasted no time in tears or vain repinings. There blazed in her brilliant eyes a look of determination that meant action.
“How far did you ride?” she questioned again impatiently.
“I reckon it’d be a matter of thirty-five miles or so,” the boy answered reluctantly. “I come as fast as I could and left home long before daylight—long before; but them swamps is ha’nted—”
“Dorothea,” April broke in upon the boy’s excuses, “Val expected us to get this message hours ago. We shall have to start at once and perhaps, even then, we’ll be too late. Will you help me?”