CHAPTER VII
JACK TAKES A PRISONER
Jack had been gone a couple of hours and it had become quite dark, when our dog Found, by growling, pricking up his ears, and looking toward the road, gave notice that some one was approaching.
On listening closely we could hear some one coming, but the tramping sounded like that of a horse. We had made no light after dark, for we did not intend to cook any supper and our experience in the Indian country had taught us to dispense with lights when in the vicinity of an enemy.
As soon as we were assured that the coming party, whoever they were, were making for our camp, Tom whispered: "Get your gun an' follow me." With that he took his rifle and, advancing stealthily for several paces toward the approaching persons—whose voices we could hear—he squatted down in a patch of weeds on the path leading to the road while I followed and did the same. We had chained the dog to a wheel of the wagon lest he should rush on the newcomers before we could find out who they were.
We had scarcely got settled in the position we had taken when we discerned two dark bodies nearing us that seemed to be a man on foot and, just behind him, a mounted man.
Letting them come on till they were within a few feet of the muzzles of our rifles, Tom's voice suddenly rang out:
"Halt! Who comes there?"
We could now see plainly that there were but two persons, a footman and a mounted man, and heard a prompt response from the horseman, in the unmistakable voice of our Irishman, as they both suddenly stopped.