the valley, but he's the truest, that's a fact. And now,
youngster, get yer horse an' rifle ready, and come to the
block-house at daybreak to-morrow.--Good luck to ye,
mistress, till we meet agin."
Joe Blunt rose, and taking up his rifle--without
which he scarcely ever moved a foot from his own door--left
the cottage with rapid strides.
"My son," said Mrs. Varley, kissing Dick's cheek as
he resumed his seat, "put this in the little pocket I
made for it in your hunting-shirt."