“They crossed the ford, just above, only a little while ago.”
“How many?”
“Two,” replied Tom, with promptness.
“Where’s the other?” asked Jarvey, turning to his companion.
“He’s in these yere woods, somewhar. We’ll fotch ’em before night. You say the two men crossed the ford—did ye, sonny?”
“Yes, half an hour ago. What is the matter with them?”
“They’re mean trash, and want to run off. Now, sonny, ’spose you put us over the river in your boat.”
“Yes, sir!” replied Tom, readily.
The two wildcats got into the bateau, nearly swamping it by their great weight, and Tom soon landed them on the other side of the river.
“Thank’e, sonny,” said Jarvey, as they jumped on shore. “If you were only four foot higher, we’d like to take you into our regiment. You’ll make a right smart chance of a soldier one of these yere days. Good by, sonny.”