The dwarf grinned more widely than ever.
“Don’t you know?” asked he. “Have you been at the Cooper place for two weeks and not heard of me?”
Nat shook his head. The dwarf blinked his small round eyes as though marveling at this lack of information. With one hand he smoothed back his upstanding shock of hair; but it sprang stiffly erect once more.
“I’m the Porcupine,” announced he. “Everybody knows me. I live in the woods when I want to; but I mostly like barns and such like, after the hay is in.”
Nat regarded him closely.
“What made you think I was going to the lower ferry?” demanded he.
The Porcupine grinned; his large teeth gleamed like polished ivory in the lantern light.
“Folks don’t calculate I know much,” said he. “But sometimes I fool ’em. You didn’t see me down there by the wall, did you? Well, I was there, not more than a couple of yards from you all the time.” The squeaky voice pitched higher, as the dwarf shook with gleeful recollection. “And I heard what Master Dimisdale said to Master Royce; also I heard what Master Royce said to Master Dimisdale.” He leaned down from his perch upon the rafter and shook his huge head with increased enjoyment. “And right away I knew what you were going to do.”
“How?” asked Nat, in wonder.
“When the party rode away and you stood watching them, I heard what you said,” replied the Porcupine. “That’s why I came here. I wanted to see that you got a good horse. And now that you have,” pointing to a rangy looking chestnut that stood in a stall almost beneath, “I want you to put a saddle and bridle on that one for me.”