“It seems to me,” he said, “that you are rather forward and plain spoken for one of your age.”
There was a sneer in his voice and a look in his eye that were infinitely more dangerous than his vented fury could be. Nevertheless, Nat spread the dripping fringe of his hunting-shirt to the blaze and answered him, smilingly:
“In my part of the country we grow rather quickly, as I suppose people do in most wild places. So if you find me rather beyond my years, I beg of you, sir, to lay it to that.”
In spite of Nat’s seeming carelessness, he was keenly watching all that went on about him. For the first time he noticed the air and dress of those who made up the Tory party; and for all the slim acquaintance with the section, he knew at once that the men did not belong in or about Philadelphia. Another thing: The queer face of the Porcupine was pressed inquiringly against the streaming panes of a side window; and beside and above it were those of a number of stable hands, who were frowning belligerently at the unconscious loyalists. At the sight a quick understanding of the situation came to Nat and he smiled once more.
“I see,” thought he, “that the Porcupine was quite right when he said that he was used to prowling about and might be of service outdoors. Those fellows look hardy and courageous; and I’ll need them before long, if I’m not mistaken in my reading of the face of Master Royce.”
“And where,” inquired the latter, who had been studying the young mountaineer in silence after his last reply, “where might that wonderful region be?”
“In the north,” answered Nat. And as he spoke the words, the saying of old Stephen Comegies came to him like a flash. “In the north,” he repeated, “where I think,” waving his hands toward the others, “most of your friends are from.”
Watching, he saw Royce suddenly catch his breath; also there was a quick stir among the other Tories; some of them even came to their feet.
“You are a lad of remarkable observation,” spoke Royce, after an amazed pause. “But don’t you think it as well not to see too much?” a different note creeping into his voice—a note that at once challenged Nat’s attention.
“I don’t know,” replied the boy, with the same undisturbed air as before. “A good outlook is not a bad thing to have; indeed, I’ve found it of distinct advantage more than once.”