“How could they when the horses had galloped right away? They wouldn’t know which way the ponies had gone in the dark.”
“But they’d find the trail in the morning, and follow it, if the job took them a week.”
“Hear, hear!” cried Griggs, raising the barrels of his rifle to his eyes and looking through them as if they formed a binocular telescope.
“Oh, you’re always so ready with your objections,” said Ned angrily. “Why couldn’t it be done?”
“Just because it would be impossible, I’m afraid, squire,” said Griggs, polishing away now at his right barrel. “If you had all the horses together, and if you could frighten them, they might all rush off, but even if they did it wouldn’t matter much, as Chris here hints, because the Indians would follow the trail, and not lose one. Very sorry, squire. Glad if it would do; but it won’t, so try again.”
Ned uttered a grunt.
“You’d better try now, Chris,” he said scornfully, “and old Griggs’ll sit upon your plan directly.”
Griggs breathed upon the stock of his rifle, and gave it a hard rub with his piece of rag to bring up the polish upon the walnut grain.
“To be sure I will,” he said pleasantly, as he gave Chris a nod. “I’m not going to play with a job like this. Have you got anything like an idea, my lad?”
“I’ve been trying to think out something,” said the boy, turning a little red in the face.