I was really amazed at the calmness with which Tom spoke, and the coolness and deliberation with which he acted. If I had been going into that cabin among Luke Redman and his boys, I should have felt a good deal of excitement and uneasiness; and, what is more, I should have shown it; but my companion did not.
With the exception of a reckless glitter in his eye, and a resolute scowl on his forehead, he was to all appearances the everyday Tom Mason. What a pity it was, I thought, that he had not devoted himself to his books, and spent less time in studying up plans for mischief. Such an undaunted spirit, such a determination to overcome obstacles, if exhibited in the line of study, or in any other laudable direction, would have raised him to a high place among his fellows.
While I was moralizing, Tom nodded his head at me as if bidding me good-by, and with a step that would not have awakened a cricket, moved toward the house. One of the hounds must have scented him—he certainly did not hear him—for he raised his head, gazed at Tom a moment with a pair of sleepy-looking eyes, and was about to lie down again when he discovered me.
His brute’s instinct must have told him that there was something wrong, for he straightened up and uttered an angry growl, which aroused all the other dogs at once. I thought it was all over with us, and that our discovery was inevitable; but Tom was equal to the emergency.
“Keep still, you rascals!” he exclaimed, in a savage whisper. “Be off with you! Clear out!”
The hounds had seen Tom so often that they had probably learned to look upon him as one of their masters, for when he stooped suddenly as if to pick up something with which to enforce his commands, they all scrambled to their feet and slunk away into the cane-brake.
CHAPTER XV.
DANGEROUS WORK.
Having disposed of the dogs, Tom stepped cautiously into the house, and I moved up as near the door as I dared, to take the guns as he passed them out, not forgetting meanwhile to keep my eye on the Indians, as he had directed.
Once I ventured to look in at the door, and when I saw the sight the inside of the cabin presented, I wondered that Tom’s heart did not fail him. There were no beds in the room, and the forms of Luke Redman and his boys were scattered over the floor in such positions that Tom was obliged to step over one or two of them in order to reach the guns, which I saw were stacked in the furthest corner of the cabin, with the powder-flasks and shot-pouches belonging to them hanging from their muzzles. Luke, looking like a giant among pigmies, lay stretched out on his blanket in the middle of the floor, one powerful arm thrown over his head, and the other passed through the handles of the valise, which he had hugged close to his side.
This was a most discouraging sight. I thought the money might as well have been locked up in some iron safe.