“I can’t understand it,” thought Nat. “I can’t, no matter how I try. Samuel Adams is not a trustful man; he is more apt to suspect than not. And Mr. Revere is not without shrewdness. Both have known Ezra for a long time, so it seems. They speak of him as having rendered great services to the cause. And, surely, they must know! It is not possible that he can have hoodwinked them and the many others in Boston who must have watched his actions.” He paused in the middle of the outer room, his mind filled with these reflections. “I have known him but a short time,” he went on, “and yet I have convinced myself that he is——” But here he paused and shook his head. “No,” he said aloud, “I’m not convinced. If I were I would not be arguing with myself in this way.”
When he reached the door of the inn he found that the person inquiring for him was the Porcupine, as he had fancied. The dwarf was seated upon one of the heavy benches, whittling a stick and whistling. At sight of Nat he grinned widely and nodded his huge head.
“What brings you here?” asked the young mountaineer, as he shook him warmly by the hand.
He had seen the boy once or twice since their joint adventure, and had praised him so highly to the family that in recognition of his bravery Mr. Cooper had offered to employ him upon the place. But the dwarf had shaken his head.
“I don’t want to work for nobody—steady,” he had replied. “I’d rather live around—just as the squirrels do.”
Now he looked up at Nat and rubbed his knife blade on the palm of his hand.
“I came to see you,” he said. “Went over to Coopers’ this morning and asked for you. But they said you’d come into town. And as my business is important,” with a renewal of the grin, “I started in after you.”
“You didn’t walk!” exclaimed Nat.
“Not on legs as short as these,” returned the dwarf. “It would take too long. I caught the carrier as he came by, and as he’s a decent fellow, he let me ride on top of the load.”
Nat sat down beside him on the bench.