"O mother dear, don't take on like that!" he cried, smoothing down the
widow's hair as her head rested on his breast.
For some time Mrs. Varley suffered the boy to fondle her in silence,
while her breast laboured with anxious dread.
"Tell me all," she said at last, recovering a little. "Did Jim
see--Dick?"
"No," answered the boy. "He looked at all the bodies, but did not find
his; so he sent me over here to tell ye that p'r'aps he's escaped."
Mrs. Varley breathed more freely, and earnestly thanked God; but her
fears soon returned when she thought of his being a prisoner, and
recalled the tales of terrible cruelty often related of the savages.
While she was still engaged in closely questioning the lad, Jim
Scraggs himself entered the cottage, and endeavoured in a gruff sort
of way to reassure the widow.
"Ye see, mistress," he said, "Dick is an oncommon tough customer, an'
if he could only git fifty yards' start, there's not an Injun in the
West as could git hold o' him agin; so don't be takin' on.
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