“I’m afraid it must be so,” replied Dick. “I happen to know about that knife, and have heard Williams say he prized it above anything he possessed. It has saved his life more than once, I understand.”
“Then if you recognized the knife it would mean that he is a prisoner like ourselves,” admitted Roger, with a long-drawn sigh.
“We may be taken to where he is being kept,” the other told him.
“They say misery likes company.”
“Oh! you must never give in like that. I tell you it is bound to come out right in the end, though things may look dark just now. Such a bad man could not win out ultimately. Do as I am doing and refuse to allow yourself to think such a thing can happen.”
“I try to—honestly I do, Dick; but what hope have we now? Here we are in the power of that rascal, who means to see to it that we do not get free until spring, and even then he may leave us to our fate. And, as if that were not enough, Jasper Williams, the only one who can save our parents’ homes, is a prisoner and will be sent into the wilderness, never to be seen again.”
Dick could understand what a weight rested on the mind of his cousin. Was he not himself fighting against the same depression, and conquering it only because he would not give in?
“Listen, Roger,” he said, impressively, “there is only one way for us to win this fight, and that is by making up our minds nothing can ever best us. Brace up, and shut your teeth together in the old way.”
“Forgive me for giving in so soon; you are curing me fast now. I already feel that things are never so dark but that they might be worse.”