It was decided that we would leave the prisoners in the cabin and ride down
to the sawmill. Hiram was to return at once with officers. If none could be
found at the mill he was to guard the prisoners and take care of them till
Dick could send officers to relieve him. Thereupon we cooked a meal, and I
was put to feeding Herky and his companions. Dick ordered me especially to
make them drink water, as it might be a day or longer before Hiram could
get back. I made Bill drink, and easily filled up Herky; but Bud, who never
drank anything save whiskey, gave me a job. He refused with a growl, and I
insisted with what I felt sure was Christian patience. Still he would not
drink, so I put the cup to his lips and tipped it. Bud promptly spat the
water all over me. And I as promptly got another cupful and dashed it all
over him.
"Bud, you'll drink or I'll drown you," I declared.
So while Bill cracked hoarse jokes and Herky swore his pleasure, I made Bud
drink all he could hold. Jim got a good deal of fun out of it, but Dick and
Hiram never cracked a smile. Possibly the latter two saw something far from
funny in the outlook; at any rate, they were silent, almost moody, and in a
hurry to be off.
Dick was so anxious to be on the trail that he helped me pack my pony, and
saddled Buell's horse.
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