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"If we only can," murmured Cowboy Dave. He felt it to be a hopeless task. Now that the cowboys had given over their efforts to drive the cattle away from the water-hole the beasts were quieter. Left to themselves, they scattered somewhat and sought for places where little pools might have formed, and where they could slake their thirst.
"Dave and Greg are holding down Tag Mosher." "You're not fooling, are you?" demanded the deputy. "You're not making any mistake, either?" "We know Tag Mosher when we see him," Darry retorted. "We've good enough reason for knowing him." With his uninjured left hand Deputy Valden reached for his pair of handcuffs, passing them to Dave. "Here you are, Darrin," said the officer.
"And the only reason this compass was saved," concluded Mr. Milford, "was because it had the initials 'D. D. scratched on it, which stands for this little boy's name when he plays pirate Dare-devil Dick." The motherly eyes smiled on Richard "If you want to know the real name those letters stand for," she said, "it's Dave Daniels. That's the name of the boy who gave it to me."
At the same time I have every reason to be thankful, for Prince Rupert has promised that he will, after the war is over, give me introductions which will procure me a commission abroad." "Well, then, it seems to me that things could not look better," Captain Dave said heartily. "When do you go on board?"
Beyond a broad inlet that led into the bay, a white sand beach, sparsely overgrown with crabgrass and waving palmettos, indicated to Dave that they were near one of his old camping places. He called Captain Vinton's attention to it, hinting that it would be a good place to spend the night.
"This is a terrible misfortune, Dave," said the squire. "Ay; the water's out, mester," said the man in a low husky way. "How did you escape?" "Escape?" said Dave, taking off his fox-skin cap and rubbing his head.
"Well, no," admitted Greg. "But why can't we fix up some sort of place?" "How?" Dave Darrin wanted to know. "If we try going into camp at this time of the year we want, first of all, some place above ground, with enough daylight and sunlight. We want a weather-tight place that we can keep properly warm." "All of that," agreed Dick. "Why can't we build a place, out in the woods somewhere?"
Captain Flanger was at the critical point in his operations, and he was too busy with the commander to give any attention to the negro, whom he regarded with the contempt begotten of his Southern education. Dave was intelligent enough to understand the situation accurately, and he realized that it was rapidly becoming critical.
"Am I your son?" he blurted out. "Len and Whitey said I was a picked-up nobody! Am I? Am I not your son?" He held out his hands appealingly. A great and sudden change came over Mr. Carson. He seemed to grow older and more sorrowful. A sigh came from him. Gently he placed one arm over the youth's drooping shoulders. "Dave," he said gently.
Old Judd whispered something to a Tolliver behind him and a moment later the man slipped from the band and disappeared. Young Dave followed Hale's figure with a look of baffled malignant hatred and Bub's eyes were filled with angry tears. Between the factions, the grim young men stood with their guns like statues.
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