“No, I don't believe you would,” looking down into the brave young face. “But what about your mother, Hughie?”
“Oh, pshaw! you wouldn't be afraid.” Hughie's confidence in his mother's courage was unbounded.
“I don't know about that,” she replied; and then turning to Ranald, “How about our friends of the other night?” she said. “Will they not be about?” Hughie had not heard about the wolves.
“Oh, there is no fear of them. We will keep a big fire all night, and besides, we will have our guns and the dogs.”
“Guns!” cried Mrs. Murray. This was a new terror for her boy. “I'm afraid I cannot trust Hughie where there are guns. He might—”
“Indeed, let me catch him touching a gun!” said Ranald, quickly, and from his tone and the look in his face, Mrs. Murray felt sure that Hughie would be safe from self-destruction by the guns.
“Well, well, come away, Hughie, and we will see,” said Mrs. Murray; but Hughie hung back sulking, unwilling to move till he had got his mother's promise.
“Come, Hughie. Get Fido ready. We must hurry,” said his mother again.
Still Hughie hesitated. Then Ranald turned swiftly on him. “Did ye hear your mother? Come, get out of this.” His manner was so fierce that Hughie started immediately for his dog, and without another word of entreaty made ready to go. The mother noted his quick obedience, and smiling at Ranald, said: “I think I might trust him with you for a night or two, Ranald. When do you think you could come for him?”
“We will finish the tapping to-morrow, and I could come the day after with the jumper,” said Ranald, pointing to the stout, home-made sleigh used for gathering the sap and the wood for the fire.