"Where shall you keep them to-night?" asked Zeke.
"I shall take them to—— Well, never mind where; it will make no difference to you."
"No, I suppose not."
Zeb overheard this conversation and determined to profit by it.
He felt sore, both physically and mentally.
He felt that his father had not kept to the meaning of his oath, and had evaded it by kicking instead of striking, which to Zeb was just as bad.
"I might just as well have let him hit me," he soliloquized; "he laughs now; perhaps he will not when I am through."
He ran, and none could go faster when he liked to exert himself, and did not rest until he was in sight of the Mountain Boys' camp.
Then he halted.
He needed to be cool.