"True for you; but, no matter how he might feel, it's his duty to think of his mother, an' surely she would say that it was better one came home, than for both to be killed."
"It's a mighty hard outlook," I said, with a sigh.
"You're right, an' at the same time you ain't makin' matters any better by chewin' it over. A man don't fit himself for a fight by figgerin' out all the possible horrors."
"An' you think we'll have a fight before this venture is ended?"
"I'll leave it to you if somethin' of the kind don't seem reasonable," the old man replied, grimly, and then he set about making a dinner from the supply of provisions we had found in the ravine.
After that I made no more effort to keep up a conversation, and tried very hard to force from my mind any speculations regarding Jacob and his father, but with poor success. It seemed as if every subject had some bearing upon the matter, and so disagreeable was the constant harking back to what was beyond my control, that I really felt glad when the shadows of night began to lengthen, for almost any kind of action was better than remaining there in hiding, eating one's heart out.
Sergeant Corney gave no sign that he realized night had come, until I called his attention to the fact, and then he said:
"Ay, lad, the time is drawin' nigh; but I reckon that we'll be wise to hold on as we are a spell longer."
Then he lay back as if bent on going to sleep, and I held my peace, determined to say no more even though he remained there until sunrise.
It must have been ten o'clock before he showed signs of life, and then he rose to his feet as he said: