"Oh, you're a quitter all right," struck in Herc, "a quitter from Quitterville—one of the first settlers there, I guess."
"Are you going to be quiet?" hissed Chance.
"When I get good and ready, as the thunderstorm said to the old maid who complained she couldn't sleep," responded the freckle-faced lad.
"Leave him alone," said Merritt, "we can afford to let them talk their heads off if they want, to; they'll be quiet enough before long."
"Well, come on. Let us be moving," interpolated Herr Muller's voice; "himmel! we have a long tramp before us."
"That's right," assented Merritt, then, turning to Chance, he went on in a low tone, "It was a good thing that we decided on that place this afternoon. It's not more than three miles from here. We can get there, put these two cubs under lock and key, and be snug in bed without giving the alarm, if we're cautious."
Chance nodded and gave his unpleasant chuckle.
"Has Muller got the keys?" he asked.
"Yes. On the plea that we wanted to explore the place the old watchman, who hasn't been near it for a month, loaned them to him."