Once Dubois went out and called to Stackpole, evidently desirous of conferring with his partner over something he did not wish the boy to overhear.
Eli saw his chance, and though his heart seemed to be in his mouth, he carried out his hastily formed plan.
Stackpole had taken the repeating rifle with him, as if not fully trusting the prisoner. But Eli could wait. Besides, he was hungry, and that was his venison, so he felt entitled to some of it.
While they ate the two men occasionally joked the boy in their rough way. But Eli only grinned, knowing that his time had almost come.
"Now git a hustle on and clar up the muss, younker!" said Stackpole, as he lighted his pipe.
Eli coolly snatched up the little Marlin repeater. He heard the angry cries of the men as they reached for their own guns.
Then Eli laughed.
"The joke is on you, Stackpole. Couldn't shoot them guns in a week, for I doctored 'em all right. Stand back now or take the consequences, you!"
They were cowed by the sudden and complete change. Neither of them dared move a hand even when Eli opened the door of the cabin, having slung some of the venison across his shoulder.
"Next time, gents, don't leave a timber boy alone in a cabin with your guns," he remarked, and waving his hand mockingly he closed the door.