the boys spent the day in suppressed excitement, not caring to engage in any amusement, but roaming about the house and making their “preparations.” after much wandering through the building, they gathered up everything they thought would be needful.

“it’s a great pity we haven’t more weapons,” henry said. “now, will to go armed rightly, we should have revolvers, not pistols. seven-shooters, with a box of cartridges apiece, would make us very formidable, and then we ought to have other weapons. well, i’ve a compass, anyway; you must take it, will, for you don’t know the way so well as i do. these pistols of mine are very good, for pistols; but after all, they are only pistols.”

henry was wrong in being ashamed of his firearms. they were very neat and highly ornamented pocket-pistols, which his father had given to him some years before, under a promise not to use them till he should be old enough to do so with safety. he had strictly kept that promise.

there was nothing wrong with them; but henry got out his father’s oil can, and the two boys toiled over them for upwards of an hour. the oil in the little can ran low, and a pile of greasy rags rose beside them; but when[164] they at last desisted from their labors, a sweet smile of content lit up their grimy features, and unthinkingly they drew out their handkerchiefs.

“oh!” cried will with a look of dismay.

“never mind,” said henry, composedly. “just keep yours, and i’ll keep mine, and they’ll make the very best kind of a slate-cloth, and when they get worn out for that, the ragman will buy them at a cent a pound. now, will, just look at these pistols; they are as clean as a snow-storm!”

this sublime comparison restored will’s cheerfulness, and together they wended their way outside to wash.

“will,” he said, “to show you how very careful i am, we won’t load this pair of pistols till just before we go. all the accidents you read about in the newspapers come from loaded pistols and revolvers lying around loose; so we’ll cheat fate, and not load them till the last minute. and,” he added, “to be still more careful, you may load them both yourself.”

but where will was concerned, fate was not to be cheated so easily; in fact, on this occasion, henry was “only playing into her hands.”

for some reason, neither of the boys said anything to mr. or mrs. mortimer about their intended expedition, wishing, according to their account, to have a “tale to tell” the next morning. although they kept saying to each other that they would be doing nothing wrong, it is probable they feared mr. mortimer might think they would be better at home than at the demon’s cave. to do them justice, it must be stated that neither meditated doing any harm; they wished only to effect an entrance into the cave. they were certain that they would reach home by bedtime; and then, the affair being all over, they could narrate their adventures at their leisure. they were observing boys, and knew well enough that when they returned in triumph and safety, their little prank would be excused; and far from being blamed, they would be regarded with admiration—even lionized.

yes, will and henry were wise in their day and generation.

[165]

in the morning henry had said to his mother: “ma, could you get supper earlier than usual to-night? will and i want to go out about sundown. we’ll tell you all about it afterwards.”

mrs. mortimer supposed, of course, that everything was all right, and never thought of questioning them as to whither they were going. she, good soul, promised to get an early supper on purpose for them, and even proposed that they should take some eatables with them. the boys heartily agreed to this—not that they cared to eat on the way; but they thought it would become them, as armed heroes, to take along a knapsack of food.

when supper was announced the impatient knights-errant hastily ate it. then henry put some tempting sandwiches—the eatables his kind mother had prepared—into his satchel, or knapsack, and called to will to get ready.

“now, will,” he said, as they flew up stairs to his room, “we must hurry like a train of cars behind time. it is getting late, and you must load the pistols as fast as you can, while i change my boots. here is everything you want in this drawer, and you know just where to lay your hand on whatever you want.”

“oh, yes,” said will.

“see, will, here’s a big jack-knife for you, and another for me. they’re the toughest and grittiest old fellows you ever saw; stick this one into your pocket.”

so they armed their persons with these formidable and bulky knives. did they expect to kill anyone, or to be killed themselves?

will felt no uneasiness about taking a pocket-knife, however big it might be; but he looked at the pistols with awe.

“you secured the compass before supper?” asked henry.

“yes.”

“then don’t stand fooling, will, but load the pistols.”

the sun had set, and the boys’ bedroom facing the east, it was somewhat dark within it. will knew he must hurry, for it was getting late, and henry would[166] soon be ready. his old dread about taking the pistols returned, and his hand trembled with suppressed excitement as he snatched them up.

“i’ll load ’em,” he said desperately, “but i don’t like to do it.”

“don’t be chicken-hearted at the last minute, will; you know i rely on you to help me;” henry called out, from the adjoining room.

“never mind,” will replied confusedly, as he opened the drawer of which henry had spoken. there were many things in this drawer, arranged in excellent order, henry thought; but to anyone else, everything seemed to be in appalling disorder, as though thrown into it at random. boxes, strings, cords, fishhooks, slate-pencils, lead-pencils, discarded buttons; a glass ink-bottle that a blue-eyed girl had once given him for prompting her against the rules; a top that a dead brother had spun in days gone by; a diary that began with a grand flourish and ended miserably on the fifth page; and several other things, were stowed away in that drawer. if the reader wishes to know exactly what its contents were, let him look into the sanctum of such a boy as henry.

groping among these things, will found his cousin’s powder-flask, poured a generous charge into the barrel of both pistols, and then rammed in a wad.

“ready?” asked henry, as he slipped on the second boot.

“oh, yes; in a minute;” will replied, becoming very much confused.

fumbling in the drawer again, he drew out a box which he supposed held the bullets. tearing off the lid without stopping to examine what the soft black balls really were, he dropped one into each barrel, and secured it with a wad.

poor boy! of course he had made a blunder, and mistaken artificial balls, that henry had made for his little brothers pog-gun, for leaden bullets! these balls were made of tow, soaked in water, and then rounded into shape. they were excellent for a pop-gun, but rather out of place in a pistol.

[167]

poor knights-errant! they were not armed even so well as henry imagined. in case of an attack from the demon, all that they could rely on would be their jack-knives.

unconscious of his mistake, will observed, with a sigh of relief, “there, they’re loaded! i’m not much used to loading pistols, henry; but i know better than to put the balls in first!”

“then why didn’t you say so before?” henry demanded, as he stepped into the room. “you are too nervous, will; you ought to take things coolly, as i do. of course the pistols are all right; but let me see them.”

taking them up, he said, with an amused smile: “it’s pretty dark here, will, but i think i could see the caps, if they were on!”

“oh!” was all poor will could say.

henry hurried to his drawer, found his box of caps, and speedily remedied will’s neglect. but he did not see the mistake will had made about the balls.

then each boy thrust a pistol into his coat pocket, and looked every inch a redoubtable hero.

“never mind shutting up the drawer, will; never mind doing anything;” henry cried impatiently. “it is nearly a quarter to seven; so let us hurry, and we’ll swoop down on the demon just in the nick of time.”

as they passed out of the house, henry’s little sister asked where they were going.

“wait till we come back, topsy, and we’ll have a whole story-book full of tales to tell you,” said henry. “we are going to do something wonderful, and perhaps we’ll find something to bring back to you. topsy, tell your baby brother that if we meet jack the giant killer, we’ll smash his head for him.”

a minute later, the boys were fairly on their way to the cave.

“henry, there is a question i want to ask you,” said will, as they strode along. “it will be so late when we get home, and we shall be so tired; why didn’t we start early in the afternoon?”

“ho! what a question! why, will, i’m astonished at[168] you! what would be the fun in going in daylight? don’t you see, night makes everything solemn and romantic, and spurs a fellow on to be very brave—so brave that he wouldn’t be afraid of the skeleton of a devil-fish. will, do you ever read novels? stories? legends?”

“yes.”

“well, don’t the heroes do all their noble deeds at night? villains and ruffians prowl around at night, and the heroes know that, and lay their plans to grapple them. will, when different nations go to war, like two dogs over a bone, if they can only manage to do the fighting at night, they always do. and then what a battle there is.”

he held forth in this strain till he became almost eloquent; but wound up by saying, with great inconsistency, “besides, it isn’t night at all; it’s only evening.”

to all this will meekly assented.

“as for being tired,” henry continued, with intense disgust, “you’re no true boy, will, if you care a straw for that, when such sport is in view.”

“no, of course not!” will hastily replied. but he asked himself whether his cousin had any of marmaduke’s notions.

“well,” after a pause, “i did have a reason for coming at this particular time. i know a good-natured fellow that comes along this way every evening with a team. i see him coming now; and he’ll give us a ride, as sure as our pistols are loaded. he’ll set us down not far from the cave, and that will be a great help; and, will, if you are tired, ten to one we’ll get a ride going home!”

will began to think his cousin was a strangely contrary boy.

mr. mortimer’s house stood in the suburbs of the town, which the boys had now left entirely behind. eagerly they hurried on, but the teamster soon overtook them, and as henry had said, he offered them a ride. as they rattled on over the dusty road, they felt that this world is very beautiful, after all; and that it is a fine thing to have a teamster for a friend.

when they left him they were within a quarter of a mile of their destination.

[169]

it was between two hills that they alighted, the road coming down one, crossing a bridge that spanned a little stream, and then going up another. the land on either side was low,—even marshy in places,—and used principally for pasturage. to the left of the road there were no banks; but to the right, for a long way up the stream, there were high and steep banks, with a wide valley between them. it was in one of these banks that the cave was situated.

the cousins ran across the road, and down into the valley, on their way to the demon’s abode. the teamster watched them as he drove along, and muttered: “so that’s where the rascals are going! well, let ’em go; i reckon they’ll soon come howling back again, very much the worse for wear, and rather broken in wind!”