“Eh? Well, I would have done a heap more than that old Sprague is doing, I can tell you that. I would have made you boys officers, to begin with. You would make a bully captain, Dan.”
“That’s just what I think, and—and—I ought to be one, too.”
“Yes; and think of the money we would make. That’s what makes me so down on all these officers. That must be worth six or eight thousand dollars a year.”
“Whew!” whistled Dan. “And old Sprague is making that much?”
“I have no doubt of it. At any rate they might have offered it to me, and I would ask how much they was going to give. If the price didn’t suit me—What’s the matter?” added Mr. Newman, seeing that Dan removed his pipe from his mouth and sat up straight on the ground. “Do you hear anything?”
“Father, there is some one coming along through the bushes,” said Dan, involuntarily lowering his voice to a whisper. “And they are coming fast, too.”
Mr. Newman listened, and presently he heard the faint rustle of the thicket as a body of men worked its way through them. It was still very faint, but it came plainly to his ears.
“I’ve got to go,” said Dan, hurriedly. “You call Cale.”
“What have you been a-doing?” said his father, in astonishment. “You stay where you are, and if they should put one of you in the calaboose I’d cut it down as soon as I could get to it with my axe.”
“I know, but I’ll tell you at some future time what I have been a-doing. Call Cale.”