"Git torches and hunt fer sign," he cried, as he stirred up the embers that still glowed in the huge fireplace. "They can't have gone far in this little time. Quick! we will find them yet!"
In a few moments a number of the Indians had secured torches, and were searching the ground without for some trace to tell them the direction taken by the fugitives. Meanwhile Dusky Dick had hastily searched through the building, and confirmed this belief. They were indeed gone.
CHAPTER IV.
A TERRIBLE SURPRISE.
Tobe Castor sat down to the table and without ceremony began what he would have termed a "square meal", eating as though his whimsical assertion was true—that he had not eaten a bite for two weeks. Evidently he was not a man to be disturbed by trifles, and who threw his entire energies into one thing at a time.
Edward Wilson conversed earnestly with his wife and daughter, telling the tidings imparted by their friend, the old hunter. He asked their advice, for, like a sensible man, he did not think it derogatory to his manhood, to consult one of the "weaker sex."
"What does Tobe say?" asked Mrs. Wilson.
"He says thet you hed better jest git up an' git, while you kin," replied that worthy, as emphatically as the crowded state of his mouth would admit. "They've got a dead open an' shet on ye, 's long's you stay hyar. Dusky Dick wouldn't 'a' shot off his mouth thet a-way, unless he had some one nigh to back him up. An' I know the pesky imps hez riz, down furder; an' it stands to reason that it'll spread up this a-way, whar thar's a few skelps to be got, 'thout much resk. So I say—mosey!"
"But where—which way? If, as you say, the Indians have broken out below us, they must be between here and the settlements—at least such as are strong enough to offer any hope of safety."