“You don’t look very dangerous,” spoke Nat.
The dwarf grinned impishly.
“You don’t know me yet,” he replied. “But,” returning to his grievance, “Master Dimisdale is a hard man. Even after I had caught the real thief, he did his best against me.”
“And who was the real thief?” asked Nat, surprisedly.
“A clever old mink,” grinned the Porcupine. “I told them so from the first—but no one would listen to me but Ben Collins. He loaned me a trap and gave me a chance to prove what I said.”
Nat put his hand upon the dwarf’s shoulder and looked thoughtfully down into his face.
“Do you understand the nature of the errand upon which those men rode away a while ago?” asked he.
The big head nodded; a shrewd look came into the small, round eyes.
“Yes,” said the Porcupine.
“And you will help me prevent their carrying it out?”