“That would be foolish. Toma can look after himself.”
“But I feel like a fool sitting here and doing nothing.”
“Go out and hunt for some more rabbits,” suggested Dick. “You don’t need to bother about me. I feel that I am perfectly safe here now. I have a lot of confidence in Toma and the plan he and you so cleverly worked out. Why don’t you go, Sandy?”
Sandy opened his clasp-knife and commenced to whittle on a stick.
“I would, only I hate to leave you here alone. It would be pretty lonesome for you just sitting or lying here with nothing to occupy your mind.”
“I have plenty of things to think about,” Dick replied. “So don’t let that worry you. Why don’t you go?” he repeated.
“If I do go, it won’t be on a hunting trip.”
Sandy threw down the stick and put away his hunting knife. He rose to his feet.
“Do you know, Dick, I keep thinking about that man out there—the one who was hurt. Do you suppose that—that something has happened to him?”
“I’ve been thinking about him too,” Dick confessed. “It’s terrible, isn’t it, Sandy?” He paused as he drew himself to a more upright position. “But I imagine,” he continued hopelessly, “that he’s beyond help now. Toma said that he wouldn’t go very far.”
Sandy strode forward and put one hand on Dick’s head.
“Do you suppose, Dick——” he began, then paused abruptly.
“I know what you are going to say, Sandy. You feel that it’s our duty to try and do something. But you are hesitating on my account. You’d like to follow those tracks and see if you can find the man.” Dick seized Sandy’s hand and gave it a re-assuring squeeze. “It’s exactly what I hoped you’d want to do. Hop to it, Sandy.”
“I’ll return before dark,” promised the other, his face lighting up with pleasure.
“Of course, I won’t. I have a better sense of direction than I used to have, and I’m a lot more careful too.”
Sandy stooped down and picked up his shoulder-pack. He was eager now and worked hurriedly assembling his kit.
“Take two or three days’ rations with you,” Dick ordered. “You never can tell what will happen.”
Sandy complied willingly enough. He turned to bid Dick good-bye.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said cheerfully. “I’ll be all right. I’ll return safe and sound, depend on that.”
Then, almost before he realized it, Dick was alone. He sat staring at the green, thatched walls of his little prison, disconsolately kicking, with his uninjured foot, at the tangled mat of moss and dead leaves at the side of his bed. Hours would pass before either of his two friends would return. The day would drag itself along, seeming never to come to an end. If there was only something he could do to make time slip away more quickly.