“Over to the settlement. Witmar’ll stay here to guard the wagon.”
“Aye, aye!” said Witmar. “And a tiresome job, I call it.”
“Oh, we’ll stick by you,” said Tom. “Good company always seems to make the time pass faster.”
“How are you going to get across the river, Mr. Ashe?” asked Larry.
“Easy enough. The horse can wade. It isn’t over a man’s waist line.”
“Goodness gracious,” muttered Larry.
He felt half ashamed and half amused when he reflected how completely he had allowed the stream to block his plans.
“Still, it may be for the best,” he thought. “Honestly, I believe this experience has done me a pile of good. Besides, I’ve learned what a fine chap Tom Clifton really is.”
Billy Ashe, who had been conversing earnestly with Witmar, suddenly sang out: “So-long, fellows! Maybe I’ll see you again.”
“You certainly will,” laughed Tom. “Good-bye, and good luck!”