“Yes, Top will go,” said the reporter, who had understood the engineer.
“Top can go where we cannot! He will carry to Granite House the news of the corral, and he will bring back to us that from Granite House!”
“Quick!” said Harding. “Quick!”
Spilett rapidly tore a leaf from his note-book, and wrote these words:—
“Herbert wounded. We are at the corral. Be on your guard. Do not leave Granite House. Have the convicts appeared in the neighborhood? Reply by Top.”
This laconic note contained all that Neb ought to know, and at the same time asked all that the colonists wished to know. It was folded and fastened to Top’s collar in a conspicuous position.
“Top, my dog,” said the engineer, caressing the animal, “Neb, Top! Neb! Go, go!”
Top bounded at these words. He understood, he knew what was expected of him. The road to the corral was familiar to him. In less than an hour he could clear it, and it might be hoped that where neither Cyrus Harding nor the reporter could have ventured without danger, Top, running among the grass or in the wood, would pass unperceived.
The engineer went to the gate of the corral and opened it.
“Neb, Top! Neb!” repeated the engineer, again pointing in the direction of Granite House.