As the two boys made their way amongst the scattered stones they caught
sight of the doctor stepping out on to the terrace where Wilton stood,
glass in hand, scanning the opposite terraces and the sharp edge of the
top, where the precipice stood out clear against the sky.
"I wonder whether they'll hit on a good idea," said Ned. "Here, let's
sit down. I say, Griggs, you might be a good fellow and give my
rifle-barrel a brush out too."
"I don't say I won't," replied the American. "I might give yours a
touch up too, squire. I'll see," he continued. "I don't expect you're
in very good trim for pumping water through gun-barrels."
"No," said Chris, wincing as he raised his arm and lowered it again as
if passing a cleaning-rod through the piece.
"Here, steady!" cried Griggs. "Don't take yours to pieces yet. One at
a time. We might want to have another shot or two at these red Robin
Hoods."
"'Tisn't likely," said Ned.
"Isn't it? You never know what's likely with those gentlemen. While
we're out here in the wilds we want to be always ready for action."
The American chatted away as he took his rifle to pieces, washing,
carefully drying, and oiling it, in the hot sunshine, while Chris placed
himself in a restful position to avoid aches and pains, and Ned leaned
back against a stone with his hands behind his head, never once joining
in the conversation. In fact, part of the time he seemed to be dozing,
for his eyes were half-closed. At last, though, he started suddenly,
made a gesture with his open hand as if catching a fly off his leg, and
exclaimed--
"I've got it!"
"Kill it, then," said Griggs, without looking up from his task. "What
is it--a skeeter?"
"No," cried Ned excitedly. "The idea!"
"You have?" said Chris eagerly.
"Yes!"
"Let's have it, then," said Griggs, "only be gentle. Don't startle us
too much."
"Don't you begin sneering," said Ned, rather haughtily. "Other people
may have bright ideas too."
"I don't know about `too,'" said Griggs coolly; "I've got none. My head
has grown thick with thinking of how we're to get out of this hole."
Ned was silent, and sat frowning.
"Well, let's have it," said Chris.
"Oh, I don't know," said Ned coldly. "Perhaps you've got a better idea
of your own."
"Here, don't make us hungry with keeping it back," cried Chris
good-humouredly. "What a fellow you are to take offence."
"Oh, I'm not offended, only I don't think some people need be ready to
jeer quite so soon."
"`Some people,'" said Griggs softly. "That means me. Very sorry, and
won't do so any more."
"And you keep on doing it."
"Well, never mind," said Griggs, smiling. "I'm only 'Murrican, and you
know what we are. Come, let's have your notion, squire, and if it seems
a right one we'll get out of our trouble like a shot. What was it?"
"Well, I propose," said Ned reluctantly, "that we take proper steps one
night, and startle the Indians' horses into making a stampede. It could
easily be done."
"And afterwards?" said Chris quietly.
"Why, ride off ourselves and get beyond the redskins' reach. They'd
have no horses to follow."
"And they'd never think of running after and catching them," said Chris
quietly.
"How could they when the horses had galloped right away? They wouldn't
know which way the ponies had gone in the dark."
"But they'd find the trail in the morning, and follow it, if the job
took them a week."
"Hear, hear!" cried Griggs, raising the barrels of his rifle to his eyes
and looking through them as if they formed a binocular telescope.
"Oh, you're always so ready with your objections," said Ned angrily.
"Why couldn't it be done?"
"Just because it would be impossible, I'm afraid, squire," said Griggs,
polishing away now at his right barrel. "_If_ you had all the horses
together, and _if_ you could frighten them, they might all rush off, but
even if they did it wouldn't matter much, as Chris here hints, because
the Indians would follow the trail, and not lose one. Very sorry,
squire. Glad if it would do; but it won't, so try again."
Ned uttered a grunt.
"You'd better try now, Chris," he said scornfully, "and old Griggs'll
sit upon your plan directly."
Griggs breathed upon the stock of his rifle, and gave it a hard rub with
his piece of rag to bring up the polish upon the walnut grain.
"To be sure I will," he said pleasantly, as he gave Chris a nod. "I'm
not going to play with a job like this. Have you got anything like an
idea, my lad?"
"I've been trying to think out something," said the boy, turning a
little red in the face.
"Let's have it, then," cried Ned.
"To be sure, let's have it," said Griggs, looking proudly at his
well-cleaned rifle, before opening the breech and slipping in a couple
of cartridges. "There, that's ready. Now, squire, I'll have yours,
please."
Ned passed his rifle, after extracting the ball-cartridge, and the
American began taking it to pieces at once.
"What's your notion, my lad?" he said, turning to Chris.
"I'm afraid to say anything about it," said Chris modestly.
"Why?" cried Ned.
"Because it seems now that I have thought it out quite extravagant and
strange."
"It can't be worse than mine," cried Ned bitterly. "Come, out with it.
Play fair. I don't see why I should be laughed at, and you get off scot
free."
"Don't you make yourself uncomfortable about that, squire," said Griggs
dryly. "I'll mind and rub him wrong way if there's nothing in it. Now
then, my lad, let's have it."