Both boys were appalled by this; but at length Walter said:
“Knowing the matter, Colonel Crockett, and understanding what these men are after, what would you advise us to do?”
Crockett stroked the stock of the handsome rifle upon his knee.
“Do?” said he, and he smiled drolly. “Why, that’s simple enough, youngster. Get to San Antonio first; tell the girl the facts, and leave it to her to decide whether she’ll go north with you and your friend here, or with Huntley and the legal shark. If you talk to her right and get her ear first, I’ve got no doubt about the result.”
Walter Jordan smiled.
“You seem to lay great stress on the importance of being first,” he said.
Crockett nodded.
“And why not?” said he, his shrewd eyes upon the boy. “There’s an old saying, ‘The first blood’s half the battle!’ And it’s as true a one as was ever put into words. I found it out years ago in the wilderness among the redskins and the prowling varmints. Let them act first and you had an almighty job getting the best of them. But be sharp and watchful—strike the first blow, and the rest was pretty easy.”
Walter looked puzzled.
“But,” said he, “Colonel Huntley is on board this boat; he’ll arrive at New Orleans as quickly as we shall. There’s nothing that I know of to hinder his pressing on to San Antonio with as much speed as we can make—perhaps more.”