“Yes, sir; I’ll keep dark,” replied Clinton.
“You promise, on your word of honor, that you won’t say a word about me?” continued the man.
“Yes, sir,” replied Clinton.
“Well, I believe your character is pretty good, and I suppose I can trust you,” said the man; “but if you should betray me, all I have got to say is, look out for Dick Sneider!”
The savage tone with which this last sentence was uttered, startled the boys somewhat; but they made no reply. The man then bound Whistler to secrecy by a similar promise. The boys, who had seated themselves on the log, now arose to depart, Clinton observing as he did so:
“I’m sorry that I can’t bring you something for your sprain, Mr. Sneider; but I don’t see how I can, unless you will let me ask mother.”
“Never mind that. I’ll give my ankle a good bathing in cold water to-night, and I guess I shall be able to travel in a day or two.”
The sun was getting low, and the boys now started for home, at a brisk pace. Their adventure supplied a topic of conversation most of the way; but, in reply to Whistler’s numerous questions, Clinton could give no very definite information in regard to the man they had so unexpectedly encountered. All that he knew about Sneider was, that he once kept a disreputable shop at the Cross Road, where he sold intoxicating liquor, in violation of law; that his establishment was finally broken up, and himself sent to jail; and that he had the name of being a desperate fellow.
On their way the boys passed through the pasture in which the cows were kept. They found Daisy, Nelly and Princess, quietly awaiting their coming at the gateway; and, having taken down the bars, they drove, or rather followed, the sober and dignified animals to their home.