These words were sufficient to infuse a good deal of life and energy into Dan. He believed that his father would yet contrive some way to swindle Joe out of every dollar that came into his possession, and if he (Dan) hoped to get any of it for his own, he must be very careful how he went contrary to his father's wishes.
When Joe came back with the candle, Silas and Dan were standing in the flat, all ready to shove off.
The young game-warden could not remember when he had carried so heavy a heart across the river as he did on this particular evening.
He did not say anything, for he knew that his father and Dan could not understand his feelings, but his brain was exceedingly busy.
Bob Emerson had disappeared in some unaccountable way. He knew that much, and somehow Joe could not help connecting this circumstance with some words the missing boy had let fall the last time he was in his company.
"We may be in more danger while we are up here than we think for," and, "This thing is going to end in something besides fun."
These words, which Bob had uttered without giving much heed to what he was saying, now seemed to Joe to be prophetic of disaster.
Of course, this reflection made him uneasy, and he exerted himself to get the heavy flat over to the other side with as little delay as possible. So did Dan, for a wonder, and the result was, that they made a much quicker passage than they usually did.
When the flat came within sight of the bank, Silas, who was at the steering-oar, leaned forward and informed Joe, in a whisper, that Tom was not alone—that his uncle Hallet, old man Warren, and both their hired men were with him, as well as two strangers whom he didn't remember to have seen before. But a moment later, he added, in tones of excitement:
"Yes, I have seen 'em, too. They're the sheriff and one of his deputies. Well, they can't do nothing to me. Ain't it a lucky thing for me, Joey, that I give up them setter dogs to-day?"