Now he begged and pleaded with Billy to loosen his bonds. He even cried and declared his hands would “freeze and drop off.”
“Then, by crickey!” exclaimed young Speedwell, “you’ll be able to keep them out of other people’s pockets. Get on with you!” and he poked the fellow in the back with his stick.
“It was all right when you tied us up and left us to starve, or freeze in that cave on the island,” pursued Master Billy. “You might have known you were bound to get yours.”
Tom blubbered along, stumbling through the snow, and even his mates scorned him.
They were not a pleasant party, to say the least. Once or twice one of the prisoners fell. Billy and Dummy helped him up again; and they were sure that the cords held. The guards did not neglect their captives at any stage of the game.
The procession moved slowly on, Dan in the lead. He brought them in near to the high bank of the Colasha. There were farmhouses somewhere along the riverside; but the bank was so steep that it would have been very difficult to get the horses up to the highway. Furthermore, in this blinding snowstorm, it was impossible to see a light.
They struggled on with a desperate attempt at cheerfulness, shouting encouragement to each other, and trying to be brave. But the snow was piling into such drifts against the shore that it was scarcely possible for them to win through.
“Don’t know but we’ll have to strike out on to the clearer ice again, sir,” suggested Dan to Mr. Kimball.
“Where’d you find a piece of cleared ice—unless you cleared it yourself?” grumbled the sheriff. “This is a nice mess!”
“It’s tough on the team,” admitted Dan. “But I reckon we’ll pull through after a fashion.”