s--I only hope ye will be!"

CHAPTER V.

A Mysterious Shot in the Darkness.

"I am going to keep my eyes open for that cut-throat that was under the
bed. There's no telling what he might not do," said John with quiet
determination, to Ree, when the peddler had left them and they were
fairly under way for the journey of another day.

"I have thought of that," Ree answered, "and you see I have put the
rifles where they will be handy. There is no use of carrying them, I
guess, but the time is coming when they must always be within reach."

The peddler had accompanied the boys to a cross-roads a couple of miles
from the Eagle tavern, enlivening them with many odd tales of his
experiences. Now they were alone again, and as the country through which
they passed became rougher and wilder, the lads realized more fully than
ever that theirs was a serious undertaking.

Yet they were happy. The trees were putting on bright colors; the air was
fragrant with the odor of autumn vegetation. The water in every stream
they crossed was fresh and clear, and fall rains had made green the
woodland clearings. Quail called musically from time to time, and once
the "Kee-kee-keow-kee-kee" of a wild turkey was heard.

At noon, beside a dashing brook which tumbled itself over a stony bed as
though in glee with its own noisiness, the travelers halted. They
unhitched Jerry that he might graze, and kindled a fire to boil some
eggs. These with brown bread, a generous supply of which Mrs. Catesby had
given them, and ginger cake which Mary Catesby had announced she had made
with her own hands, made a meal which anyone might have relished. To the
boys, their appetites sharpened by the fine air, every morsel they put
between their lips seemed delicious.

"We won't long have such fare," they reminded one another.

"We will have venison three times a day though," said John.

"Yes, we will have so much meat we will be good and tired of it; because
we must be saving of our meal this winter, and until our own corn grows,"
Ree answered thoughtfully.

"Well, don't be so melancholy about it, Old Sobersides," cried John.
"Why, for my part, I could just yell for the joy of it when I think how
snug we will be in our cabin this winter! And what a fine time we are
going to have choosing a location and building our log house!"

"That, as I have so often said," Ree answered, "is the one thing about
our whole venture that I do not like. We will be '