“To be sure,—plain as I see you.”
“And a man helpin’ on her up the bank?” said Loker.
“To be sure, I did.”
“Most likely,” said Marks, “she’s took in somewhere; but where, ’s a question. Tom, what do you say?”
“We must cross the river tonight, no mistake,” said Tom.
“But there’s no boat about,” said Marks. “The ice is running awfully, Tom; an’t it dangerous?”
“Don’no nothing ’bout that,—only it’s got to be done,” said Tom, decidedly.
“Dear me,” said Marks, fidgeting, “it’ll be—I say,” he said, walking to the window, “it’s dark as a wolf’s mouth, and, Tom—”
“The long and short is, you’re scared, Marks; but I can’t help that,—you’ve got to go. Suppose you want to lie by a day or two, till the gal ’s been carried on the underground line up to Sandusky or so, before you start.”
“O, no; I an’t a grain afraid,” said Marks, “only—”