On the shelf stood a pail half full of drinking water,
and by the side of it a tin cup. Dried herbs hung over the
fireplace, and two or three chests stood in the corners. The
clothing of the children was scattered about. Unprepared food
for breakfast stood on a table. Everything told of a hasty
flight and its terrible need. Henry was already resolved, but
his heart hardened within him as he saw.
He took the hatchet from his belt and cut one of the hooks for
the door bar nearly in two. The others said not a word. They
had no need to speak. They understood everything that he did.
He opened the window again and looked out. Nothing yet appeared.
"The dawn will come in three quarters of an hour," he said, "and
we shall not have to wait long for what we want to do."
He sat down facing the door. All the others were sitting, and
they, too, faced the door. Everyone had his rifle across his
knees, with one hand upon the hammer. The wood on the hearth
sputtered as the fire spread, and the flames grew. Beyond a
doubt a thin spire of smoke was rising from the chimney, and a
watching eye would see this sign of a peaceful and unsuspecting
mind.
"I hope Braxton Wyatt will be the first to knock at our door,"
said Shif'less Sol.
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