“Yes, and with little idea of the value of human life.”
The band grouped together about the woman, who was reciting the incidents of the raid of the MacGuffins. Wild shouts and threats followed her story. The party split up, and half of them ran to a thicket, to reappear with horses.
At a word from the leader they set off in the direction the refugees had just come from. Then the man approached the airman and his companions.
“We’re rough fellows, maybe,” he said, “but we stick like glue to a friend. You two young fellows saved my Nance and the babies. There isn’t much we fellows wouldn’t do for you in return.”
“Well, you can probably help us out a good deal if you want to,” replied Dave promptly.
“Just name how, son.”
“Mr. King has told you how we are balloonists. We need some quicksilver, and the three of us had started out to locate some town where we could get the article.”
“Quicksilver, eh?” repeated the outlaw, as though dubious and puzzled. “Where would you be likely to get it now?”
“Most hardware or drug stores keep it,” explained Dave.
“Nothing else you need?”