If he wakes before we grab him he'll shoot."
The man Kerins laughed.
"He'll never get a chance to shoot," he said. "Why, after all he went
through today, he'll sleep like a log till mornin'."
"That's so," said one of the young Leffingwells, "an' Kerins is right.
We ought to grab them dispatches. Likely in one way or another we kin
git a heap fur 'em."
"Shut up, Jim, you fool," said his mother sharply. "Do you want murder
on your hands? Stealin' hosses is bad enough, but if that boy has got
the big dispatches you say he has, an' he's missin', don't you think
that sojers will come after him? An' they'll trace him to this house,
an' I tell you that in war trials don't last long. Besides, he's a nice
boy an' he spoke nice all the time to pap an' me."
But her words did not seem to make any impression upon the others,
except her husband, who protested again that it would be enough to take
the horse. As for the dispatches it wasn't wise for them to fool with
such things. But Kerins insisted on going the whole route and the young
Leffingwells were with him.
Meanwhile Dick had dressed with more rapidity than ever before in his
life, fully alive to the great dangers that threatened. But his fear
was greatest lest he might lose the precious dispatches that he bore.
For a few moments he did not know what to do. He might take his pistols
and fight, but he could not fight them all with success. Then that
pleasant flood of cold air gave him the key.
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