“No,” cried Chris; “I’m not going to leave my father.”
“Wait, my boy,” said the doctor sternly.
“But, father—”
“Silence, sir!”
“Hadn’t done speaking, my lad,” said Griggs, looking at the boy with a smile. “Here’s the rest of it. Mr Bourne and Squire Ned get old Skeeter to the front; and set off at once as fast as the mules will go, which only means a walk.”
“But where—where?” cried Bourne excitedly.
“Anywhere, sir, except into the soda-plains. The thing you’ve got to do is to put as many miles between you and here as you can manage in the next twenty-four hours.”
“What, and desert you?” cried Bourne. “How are you going to manage to find us?”
“Oh, I’ll find you by your trail when the time comes, sir,” said Griggs, laughing. “Don’t you be afraid of that. Don’t even think about it, only of getting right away.”
“I see,” said the doctor, and he frowned down Chris, who was about to speak. “Now go on.”