“Well,” said Franz, “we kin do that ef we git an early start, afore our prisoner is missed. As soon as it’s still enough, an’ late enough, we’ll mizzle.”
“Wot’s yer plan, Franzy?”
“Easy as a, b, c. You an’ the old woman lead the way, ter make sure that there won’t be nobody ter bother me, when I come after with the gal.”
“With the gal?”
“Yes; ye don’t want ter leave a dead gal here, do ye? Ye might be wanted agin, fer a witness.”
Papa winced and was silent.
“But, Franz,—” expostulated Mamma.
“You shet up! I’m no chicken.” And Franz drew his dirk and ran his finger along the keen edge. “Here’s my plan: You two give me the bearings of the new hen-roost, an’ then start out, keepin’ a little ahead, an’ goin’ toward the drink. I’ll rouse up the gal an’ boost her along, keepin’ close enough to ye to have ye on hand, to prove that I’m takin’ home my drunken sister if any one asks questions. When we get near the drink, you’ll be likely to miss me.”
“Oh!”
“An’ after a while I may overtake ye, somewhere about hen-roost, alone!”