CHAPTER VIII
SHOWS HOW BEN COOPER WENT FORTH INTO THE
NIGHT AND WHAT DISCOVERY HE MADE
BY THE WAYSIDE
Ben Cooper had left his holster pistols slung from the back of a chair in the public room; so now when he strode in, took them up and looked at their locks and primings, the good landlady of the inn opened her eyes.
“What now?” she asked. “Has anything gone wrong?”
“Not yet,” answered Ben; “but,” smiling, “there is no knowing, according to your hostler, what will befall on the road after night.”
“Pay no attention to what he says upon that point!” exclaimed the woman. “He is fair mad about it. If he can get any one to listen to his talk about the road, especially the road after dark, he’s happy. Pay no attention to him.”
“It so chances,” said Ben, “that I am much struck by something which he has said, and have the curiosity to look further into it.” He placed the pistols in his belt, and provided himself with ammunition. “I shall, perhaps, be gone some time. If I return after you are all abed, I will not arouse you, so have no fear upon that score. There is hay in the barn loft, I know, and I can make myself comfortable enough in that for a few hours.”
The landlady was still expostulating when he departed, and as he walked down the ice-bound road, he heard her calling shrilly to the hostler.
“He’s in for a rare, good drubbing,” laughed Ben, to himself. “The hostess is a famous scold when she is herself, as I’ve often heard.”
The night was dark and bitterly cold, and the lad drew his greatcoat well about him, and plunged his hands deep into his pockets.
“By all appearances, the carriage is to be met hereabouts,” he mused, as he stumbled along. “As they have no horses, it seems reasonable to think that this is so. Therefore, I must be as cautious as I can, for there is no telling where these two worthies may be lurking.”