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By the time Dick Darvall had ended his narrative which was much more extensive than our report of it steaks of the deer were sputtering in a frying-pan, and other preparations were being made for a hearty meal, to which all the healthy men did ample justice. Shank Leather did what he could, and even Buck Tom made a feeble attempt to join.
"Not hurt I hope?" asked Dick Darvall, assisting his brother-salt to rise. "Not a bit of it, Dick. You see I'm a'most as active as yourself though double your age, if not more. I say, Charlie, this is a pretty look-out. Don't 'ee think so, Mr Crossley?
"You are ill, Will Ward," was Dick Darvall's first remark when there was sufficient daylight to distinguish faces. "You're another!" was the cabin-boy's quick, facetious retort, which caused Darvall to smile and had the effect of rousing the half-sleeping crew. "But you are ill, my boy," repeated the seaman earnestly.
"Yes, yes, I know," interrupted Charlie a third time, with provoking coolness. "You ran her on to the rocks, Dick which was unseamanlike in the extreme at least you ran the dear aground on a fallen tree and, sitting down beside it, asked it to become Mrs Darvall, and the amiable creature agreed, eh?" "Why, how on earth did 'ee come for to know that?" asked Dick, in blazing astonishment.
"His real name is Jackson, but it is seldom used now. Every one knows him as Roaring Bull. He's not a bad fellow at bottom, but something overbearing, and has made a good many enemies since he came to this part of the country six years ago." "That may be so," remarked Brooke, "but he was very kind to us the day we put up at his place, and Dick Darvall, at all events, is not one of his enemies.
"The man, Dick Darvall, whom I have mentioned several times," said Charlie, in conclusion, "I met with again in New York, when I was about to start to come here, and as I wanted a companion, and he was a most suitable man, besides being willing to come, I engaged him.
"But what if these scoundrels should return to their old haunt?" said Wilmot. "Let them come," returned the scout. "Wi' Mr Brooke, an' Dick Darvall, an' three Winchesters, an' half-a-dozen six-shooters, I'd engage to hold the cave against a score o' such varmin. If Mr Brooke an' Dick are willin' to " "I am quite willing, Ben, and I can answer for my friend Dick, so don't let that trouble you."
One evening Charlie Brooke entered the kitchen of the ranch in search of his friend Dick Darvall, who had a strange fondness for Buttercup, and frequently held converse with her in the regions of the back-kitchen. "I shouldn't wonder if he was," returned Charlie with a hopeful smile. "I suppose Miss Mary's not around anywhere, is she?"
"Have you, Dick?" asked the rugged man in some anxiety. "No, I haven't," replied Darvall, in a very serious voice, as he also took to slapping his pockets; "no nor baccy!" It was curious to note at this point how every seaman in that boat became suddenly sympathetic and wide awake, and took to hasty, anxious examination of all his pockets vest jacket, and trousers.
For there are few things more uncomfortable in any community, large or small, than the absence of discipline, or the presence of a weak will in a position of power. "But I say, Will," remarked Darvall, who pulled the stroke-oar, "you really do look ill. Is anything the matter with 'ee?" "Nothin', Dick; 'cept that I'm tired," answered the cabin-boy.
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