“Are the bad mans gone, mamma?” she asked.
“No, they ain’t gone but they can’t hurt us now,” her mother replied, as she hugged the little girl to her breast.
Then Bob told them how he had found the child and how she had told them what was happening.
“I was worried to death ’bout what had become of Dot,” the woman said, as she kissed the child again and again.
“Those fellers come in here ’bout an hour ago,” Mr. Slocum explained in answer to Bob’s question. “They must have got wind ter the fact that I had a lot o’ money in the house. Yer see there ain’t another soul ’sides us here just now. Everybody’s gone down ter Greenville fer one thing or a nother. Well, they jumped us an’ tied us up and demanded ter know where my money was, and when I wouldn’t tell ’em they got real mad an’ ’lowed as how they’d burn my feet off if I didn’t tell, an’ I guess they’d a done it if you hadn’t come along jest when you did.”
Mrs. Slocum insisted on getting the boys something to eat, and it was close to ten o’clock by the time they had finished. Jeb insisted that the boys go to bed while he sat up and watched the prisoners.
“Land sakes,” he declared, when Bob announced his intention of serving as watchman. “I couldn’t sleep no mor’n a cat after all this excitement,” and seeing that he was determined, Bob soon gave up the argument and together with Rex and Jack, followed Mrs. Slocum to a room upstairs where were a couple of most comfortable looking beds.
“I hope you’ll find those beds all right,” she said, as she bade them goodnight.
“I should say they were all right,” Jack declared a moment later, as he nearly sank out of sight in the soft feather tick.
They were up at daybreak the next morning, and by the time they had recovered their packs and snow-shoes from where they had left them the night before, Mrs. Slocum had breakfast ready for them.