“He,” continued the young mountaineer, “is going, so to speak, to cover my retreat. And as I’ve never known him to miss a shot, I warn you to be very careful what you do.”
And with that he turned his back fearlessly upon them, gave rein to his horse and rode toward Ben, who was dismounted and planted in the roadway, the rifle at his shoulder.
When his cousin came up, young Cooper said:
“I say, now, what is all this about?”
“You’ll know in good time,” replied Nat. Molly stood grazing at the roadside; he took her rein and continued: “I’ll take the mare with me. You come along with your face to them until we get out of pistol shot. They haven’t any heavier arms that I could see.”
Ben followed these orders carefully. When they had moved out of range of any stray shot, he remounted and slung the rifle before him, a complaint plain upon his face.
“I’ll know in good time, will I?” said he, in an injured tone. “Now, I want you to understand, Nat Brewster, that I’m not to be treated as a child. If I’m old enough to keep these men from shooting you in the back, I’m also old enough to be told who they are and what they were after.”
Nat laughed.
“Why,” said he, “that sounds like good sense. And I suppose I’ll have to tell you. But, remember,” warningly, “it goes no farther.”
“All right,” spoke Ben, “I promise.”