"I'll come too, Jim," he cried out. "I can't sleep, and a little exercise will do me good."
"Then hop along, young 'un. One of these days, when you've grown older and ha' got more larnin', you'll find it's a wise man who puts in sleep when he's the chance. Pick up that 'ere gun. Yer never knows when a bullet won't be useful."
They left their friends lolling about the camp, and strolled into the town. There were one or two stores to be found, and they hung about these for a little while, staring with all a backwoodsman's curiosity at the goods displayed for sale.
Then they strolled on again till they reached the far end of the street.
"Reckon ther's one of them skunks a watchin'," said Jim, suddenly stopping and calmly filling his pipe. "Jest you walk on, Steve, while I get a light. It'll give me a chanst to turn round."
He sought for his tinder and steel, and began to strike the flint, turning his back to the wind and to his young companion, who strolled on. Two minutes later he had come up to Steve again.
"Jest stroll on as we air, easy like," he said in low tones. "I war right. One of them redskin varmint's got his eyes on us."
"Then we'll slip into the wood up here, as if for a stroll, and when we're hidden we'll turn and watch. What do you say, Jim?"
"That's the ticket, lad. Easy does it."
A little while later the two were making their way through the wood, which grew densely close up to the houses at this end of Albany. They threaded their way in amongst the trees in single file, each unslinging his musket as he stepped out of sight of the road. When they had gone a quarter of a mile Jim came to a sudden halt.