An' if a gang of rebel sharpshooters has wandered up here they may see
us an' chase us 'way off into the mountains, where we'd break our necks
fallin' off the ridges or freeze to death or starve to death."

Whitley stared at him.

"Blaze," he exclaimed, "what kind of a man are you anyway?"

"Me? I'm the happiest man in the valley. When people are low down they
come an' talk to me to get cheered up. I always lay the worst before
you first an' then shove it out of the way. None of them things that
I was conjurin' up is goin' to happen. I was just tellin' you of the
things you was goin' to escape, and now you'll feel good, knowin' what
dangers you have passed before they happened."

Dick laughed. He liked this intensely red man with his round face and
twinkling eyes. He saw, too, that the mountaineer was a fine horseman,
and as he carried a long slender-barreled rifle over his shoulder,
while a double-barreled pistol was thrust in his belt, it was likely
that he would prove a formidable enemy to any who sought to stop him.

"Perhaps your way is wise," said the boy. "You begin with the bad and
end with the good. What is the name of this place to which we are
going?"

"Hubbard. There was a pioneer who fit the Injuns in here in early
times. I never heard that he got much, 'cept a town named after him.
But Hubbard is a right peart little place, with a bank, two stores,
three churches, an' nigh on to two hundred people. Are you wrapped up
well, Mr. Mason, 'cause it's goin' to be cold on the mountains?"