The boy was a shrewd fellow, and as bad as any that lived in those parts. His father had not half the quick wit possessed by Zeb.
"Dad, get the reward," he whispered.
"Ay, who will pay me the reward?" he asked the officer.
"I will certify that you are entitled to it, and you can get it from Albany any time."
"Ay, so I must needs trudge to Albany. Must I go with the prisoners?"
"No, you have nothing to do with them now; they are in my care."
"So if they get away——"
"But they cannot get away."
"But if they did?" Zeb persisted.
"That would be my loss. You and your father have earned the reward."