"Aye, we'll have a reckoning then," replied Barnabas. "Every Redcoat will stand for Wyoming—Hist! who comes?"
Soft footsteps were heard, and a settler named Morgan Proud glided up to the rock. "Four of ye?" he said, peering at the group. "I won't be intrudin', men, but I followed hither for a purpose. Do you want arms?"
"Do we?" exclaimed Barnabas. "An' kin you pervide them, man?"
"That I can," said Proud. "When we come up to the fort from Wilkesbarre yesterday—ten of us—we brought nearly two muskets apiece along. But we hid the guns and ammunition down by the river, half expectin' the fort would be surrendered and all arms given up. And we acted wisely—"
"Lead the way, man," broke in Barnabas. "This deed'll win you a golden crown some day. But are you sure the stuff is there yet?"
"They're well hid," replied Proud, "and I told our men, who just started, to take a musket apiece and leave the rest. Will your party join us, Barnabas? We're going down river in flat-boats from Wilkesbarre."
"We have an errand over yonder first," said Barnabas, jerking his thumb northward. "We might ketch up with you, but don't wait on us."
"No, we'll take no risk," Proud answered, "seein' as we'll have women and children dependin' on us. But you're welcome to the arms all the same."
Without further speech he led the party obliquely toward the river, and they came speedily to a windfall under the bluff. Proud's friends had been here and gone, but the extra muskets were safe in their hiding place. The man handed out the requisite number, adding a generous supply of powder and ball.
"I'll wait here a bit," he said. "There'll be others coming by, and I have three guns left."