“An’ s’pose they did? I don’t reckon they’d make much,” declared Sandy. “Thar’s six of them, an’ only five of us, but we’re the best men.”
“Well, shall we go on to the settlement, or stay here?” asked Duke.
“Oh, stay here, by all means,” we answered, with one accord; adding, with a shiver, as we looked out into the darkness, and thought of that dreary ride through the swamp, that under no ordinary circumstances could we be induced to get into our saddles again that night.
There was no necessity for it. We were as comfortable in our camp as we would have been at headquarters, and as safe, too; for, as far as an attack from the Swamp Dragoons was concerned, that was all in Luke Redman’s eye. Barney and his followers were not courageous enough to attempt such a thing; but, in order to make “assurance doubly sure,” it might be well to put out pickets.
“That’s a good idea,” said Duke, glancing at his watch, the hands of which pointed to midnight. “If there are no objections, I’ll stand guard first, and at the end of an hour I’ll call—whom?”
“Call me,” said I.
“All right. It shall be the duty of the pickets to keep the fire burning, to watch the prisoner closely, and to see that he does not find means to effect his escape, and to make the round of the camp at least three times during the hour. It is a wet job,” said Duke, looking out at the rain and sleet, which were coming down as fiercely as ever; “but we shall all feel safer for it. It wouldn’t look well for us to go back to the settlement without our prisoner, after working so hard to secure him.”
“Wal,” said Luke Redman, seeing that the consultation was ended, “what are you goin’ to do?”
“We think some of staying here until morning. Any objections?”
“Nary one. I’m monstrous glad on’t, ’cause my boys will be along this way directly. If some on you gets your heads broke, you mustn’t blame me fur it. I told you to turn me loose, an’ you wouldn’t do it.”