“If that boy goes to Texas he’ll be out of reach of you,” interrupted Scanlan.
“Yes; but see what danger he’ll be in.”
“I don’t know that he will be in any danger—more than he is here,” said Scanlan. “Remember that if he stays there long enough to get acquainted he will have any number of rifles to back him up.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Why, supposing his father dies and leaves no will. It would put you to some trouble to prove that you are next of kin. You see your names are different. If they made up their minds that he was the heir, it would be good-by to you.”
“And you believe it would be best to kidnap him very soon?” asked Henderson, his courage all leaving him.
“Certainly I do! If he goes down there you are a poor man for your lifetime. Now is the chance. I tell you I would not miss it for anything!”
This brought the matter squarely home to Henderson, and he decided that he would take that night to sleep upon it. He rolled and tossed on his bed without ever closing his eyes in slumber, and when morning came he had made up his mind to do something.
“Scanlan will have to do it all,” said he, and his compressed lips showed that he had looked at the matter in all its bearings. “I will keep just behind him and show him the room where the boy sleeps, and he can throw the quilt over him and secure him without any help from me. Then if that old tutor of his jumps in on us, why I will get out of the way. But I must leave my way of escape clear.”
Henderson carried out his programme by going to the bank, drawing out his money, and depositing it somewhere about his person. Then he packed his trunk as if for a long journey, and then told Scanlan that he was ready for business.