“When they caught me they searched my pockets and took the silver. Then I was glad that I had taken no more.”
“That is, you would rather Grant would keep his money than have the Indians get it.”
“Yes, Mr. Tom,” answered Silverthorn meekly. “It went to my heart to rob the boy, for he looked so much like my lost son. Forgive these tears!” and he drew out the red silk handkerchief, which the Indians had evidently not thought it worth while to take, and wiped his eyes.
“That man disgusts me, Grant,” said Tom. “He seems to have quite an affection for you.”
“It is all on his side,” returned Grant. “I don’t believe he ever had a boy.”
“Well, perhaps not. He seems a natural born liar. But it’s time we were pushing on. We have a long distance still before us.”
The wagon was put in motion, and the little procession started. Mr. Cooper drove the oxen, Mrs. Cooper sat inside the wagon, Tom led the horse, and Grant walked alongside. Sometimes Tom took his turn in driving the oxen, and sometimes Grant led the horse.
Dionysius Silverthorn started also, walking beside Grant.
Tom turned upon him.
“Where are you going?” he asked.