“So am I,” I responded. “I’m pretty certain he would kill us if he thought proper, and though Bates might try to prevent him I’m not so sure that he could do so. If Jack——”
“Sh!” whispered Percy, tapping me upon the knee, and pointing with his thumb toward the doorway. There was a rustle in the grass, and the sound of breathing close to the elk-hide. Somebody was listening.
“Jack is sure to be back in three weeks,” Percy announced in an audible voice for the benefit of the listener. “Three weeks ought to be ample time, and you may be sure he won’t let the grass grow under his feet. As for ourselves, as there’s no chance that I see of getting out of this place, the best thing we can do is to make ourselves as comfortable as we can while we stay here.”
“You are right,” I replied. “That’s the best thing to do. Your father and mine will certainly pay rather than have us killed, and these men probably know that. If it should take more than three weeks to get the money out, Jack will come and say so, and they will give him the extra time necessary; they will hardly be such idiots as to kill us when they might get a thousand pounds apiece by keeping us alive.”
“That’s true,” said Percy. “Well, since we are agreed to make the best of it, let us begin at once by going to bed.”
With that we arose and proceeded to make the beds, keeping our ears cocked meanwhile toward the door. Percy winked at me when once more we heard the swishing among the grass which announced the retreat of the spy.
The night passed without incident, and very early next morning Squeaky unbuttoned the door and commanded us to come out. Both he and Bates were still wearing their masks; whether they slept in them or not I cannot say.
“Pardner,” said the former, as soon as we appeared, “you may as well go and bring up my horse. Cook, start the breakfast. You other, chop some wood.”
We set about our allotted tasks; but presently Percy, pointing to an empty bucket, remarked:
“I haven’t any water.”