“I won’t, Dannie,” said Godfrey, giving his son’s hand another cordial shake.
“Ye done said ye’d give me half, I reckon, didn’t ye, pap?”
“I did; an’ what I say I allers stand to. Yer circus-hoss, an’ yer fish-pole what ye kin take all in pieces an’ carry under yer arm, an’ yer shiny boots, an’ all them other nice things ye have been wantin’ so long, are comin’ to ye now. When ye get ’em I’d jest like to see you alongside of them pale-faced youngsters up to the general’s. Yer a heap smarter an’ better lookin’ nor they be, Dannie. You hear me?”
Dan grinned, and Godfrey having lost all the tobacco out of his pipe while he was dancing about, filled up again, and sat down for a fresh smoke. His excitement had not in the least abated, and neither had Dan’s. They built air-castles and laid plans for the future, until the afternoon began to draw to a close, and then Godfrey announced that it was time to prepare for business. He covered up the fire, threw on his powder-horn and bullet-pouch, and, taking his long rifle on his shoulder, led the way, through the woods, toward his cabin, closely followed by Dan, whose bright dreams grew still brighter as the time for their fulfilment drew nearer.
As they approached the cabin they heard the sound of an axe, and, when they came near enough to peer through the bushes, they saw David in the yard chopping wood. When his task was finished, he put the axe away, and began carrying the wood into the cabin, and, while he worked, he whistled merrily. He was happy, as he had reason to be. When the last stick of wood had been deposited by the side of the fire-place, and David had walked two or three times around the cabin, and looked sharply in every direction, to make sure that Dan was not loitering about, ready to play his old game of eavesdropping, the Boy Trapper went in, and closed and fastened the door.
“Now, mother,” said he, “where shall we hide these greenbacks? A hound on a deer’s trail is not sharper than Dan is when he scents money; and if he finds out that I have received my pay he will want me to divide with him, and if I don’t do it, he’ll make such a fuss that we can’t stay in the house with him. We have nothing to fear from father now.”
“We must take good care to keep our secret from Daniel’s knowledge,” said Mrs. Evans. “I don’t see how he is going to find it out. I shan’t tell him, and neither will you.”
“Of course not; but there were three or four men in the store when Mr. Jones paid me the money,” said David, taking down a rusty tin box from the rough mantel over the fire-place. “I don’t know who they were, for I was too excited to know anybody. If they don’t speak of it, no one will know that I have got the money; but I can’t afford to run any risks. I must hide it somewhere until Don comes back, and then I’ll give it to him to keep for me. It will be safe in his hands. Now, mother, let’s see if it is all here. I didn’t count it when Silas gave it to me.”
David and his mother had spent the most of the afternoon in talking over their plans and calculating how long, with the economy they intended to practice, their little fortune would suffice to supply them with clothing and provisions. It was a large sum in David’s eyes, but Mrs. Evans knew that it would not last for ever, and she had labored hard to impress this fact upon the boy’s mind.
David turned the contents of the box into his mother’s lap, and as they were not accustomed to the handling of money, it took them both nearly a quarter of an hour to straighten out the bills and put the various denominations together, so that they could be easily counted. They were very much interested in their work and little dreamed that during the most of the time they were thus engaged two faces, pale with excitement, were pressed close against one of the cracks in the rear wall of the cabin, and two pairs of eager eyes were watching their every movement.