“About being safe, and the risk of fresh attacks by the Indians?”
“Yes, father; we heard every word—didn’t we, Morgan?”
“Oh yes; everything, sir.”
“Well,” said my father, “it is quite possible that this party came to spy out the land so as to prepare for a descent. If this is so, there is a good deal of risk in staying here. I have made up my mind what to do under the circumstances.”
“Oh, master! Oh, Captain Bruton!” broke out Morgan; “don’t say that after the pains we took in getting our garden in order, and in helping to build the house, and never happy unless I was going to do something to make it look pretty, you’re thinking of moving and letting some one else come in?”
“I think the risk is very great in staying; and that for your wife’s sake, my son’s, and yours, I perhaps ought to give up this, and go and take up fresh land close to my brother settlers.”
“But, begging your pardon, sir, don’t you think nothing of the sort again. What do you say, Master George?”
“Oh, I shouldn’t like to go away from here,” I said.
“There, sir! Hear that?” cried Morgan. “Why, if you come to reckon it up, how do you know that you’re going to be safer there than here? If the Injins come, that’s where they’ll go for first, and we’re just as likely to be killed there as here.”
“Possibly, Morgan.”