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As I put the letter in my pocket, Red Chief came over.

“You said I could play the scout.”

“So I did. What does the scout do?”

“He rides to the fort to warn everyone that the enemy is coming.”

“That sounds fine. Bill will play with you.”

Bill looked suspicious.

“What do I do?”

“You’re the horse.”

For a moment, Bill did not move.

Then the boy pointed at the ground.

“Get on your hands and knees. I can’t ride to the fort without a horse.”

“Keep him happy,” I told Bill. “We need a little more time.”

My partner slowly lowered himself to the ground.

“How far is this fort?”

“Ninety miles.”

Bill closed his eyes.

The boy climbed onto his back and dug his heels into his sides.

“Come on! We have to hurry!”

As I left, Bill called after me.

“Come back as soon as you can, Sam!”

Then, more quietly:

“I wish we’d only asked for a thousand.”

In the next village, I sat near the post office and listened to the local conversation.

Eventually, a man mentioned that Ebenezer Dorset’s boy had disappeared.

People in Summit thought he had either wandered off or been stolen.

That was what I needed to hear.

I bought some tobacco, posted the letter without attracting attention, and headed back to the cave.

When I arrived, nobody was there.

I searched among the trees and called out softly.

No answer.

So I sat down and waited.

Half an hour later, the bushes moved.

Bill appeared, walking with difficulty. His clothes were dusty, and sweat ran down his face.

A few steps behind him came the boy, moving silently and wearing a broad grin.

Bill had not noticed.

He stopped in front of me and took off his hat.

“Sam, you may think I’ve let you down.”

“What happened?”

“There’s a limit to what a human being can stand.”

“Where’s the boy?”

“Gone. I sent him home.”

Behind him, Red Chief crouched among the bushes.

I said nothing.

“I tried,” Bill continued. “I really did. I carried him all the way to that fort. All ninety miles—or that’s what it felt like.”

“What happened when you got there?”

“He fed me.”

“That was thoughtful.”

“He said horses eat oats.”

“Yes?”

“We didn’t have any oats. He used sand.”

Bill wiped his face.

“Then he asked questions for an hour. Why are holes empty? How can a road go in two directions? What makes grass green? Finally, I couldn’t take any more.”

“So you took him home?”

“I took him down the hill and showed him the road to Summit. He kicked me all the way, but I did it.”

For the first time since the kidnapping, Bill looked happy.

“We’ve lost the ransom,” he said, “but we’ve saved my life.”

“Bill, is your heart strong?”

“I suppose so. Why?”

“Turn around.”

He turned.

The boy stood up and smiled.

Bill sat down heavily on the ground.

For a while, he picked at the grass without speaking.

I explained that the whole business would soon be over.

Dorset would reply that evening. We would collect the money at midnight, return the boy, and leave.

Bill listened carefully.

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

He took a deep breath.

Then he managed a weak smile at Red Chief.

That evening, I went to collect Dorset’s reply.

I was still determined to handle that part professionally. The box stood beside open fields, where anyone approaching would be easy to see.

So I arrived early and hid in a nearby tree.

At half past eight, a boy rode up on a bicycle. He placed a folded note in the box and rode away.

I waited until I was satisfied that nobody else was coming.

Then I climbed down, took the note, and returned to the cave.

Bill was waiting beside the lantern.

“Well?”

I opened the letter.

It began politely.

Gentlemen,

I received your letter about the ransom for my son. I believe you are asking too much, so I would like to suggest a different arrangement.

Bring Johnny home and pay me two hundred and fifty dollars. In return, I will take him off your hands.

I stopped reading.

Bill leaned forward.

“Go on.”

I advise you to come after dark. The neighbours believe he is lost. I cannot be responsible for what they might do to anyone they saw bringing him back.

Very respectfully,

EBENEZER DORSET.

For a moment, I could not speak.

We had kidnapped his son.

We were supposed to receive the money.

“This is outrageous,” I said.

Then I looked at Bill.

His face held an expression I had never seen before.

Hope.

“Sam,” he said gently, “what is two hundred and fifty dollars?”

“A great deal of money.”

“We have it.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“One more night with this boy, and there won’t be enough of me left to spend it.”

I looked towards Red Chief.

He was busy preparing something with a stick and a length of string.

I decided not to ask.

“Mr Dorset is making us a generous offer,” Bill continued. “We shouldn’t insult him by refusing.”

To tell the truth, the child was beginning to affect my nerves as well.

“All right,” I said. “We’ll take him home.”

Bill stood up immediately.

Persuading Johnny to leave was harder than persuading his father to accept him.

We told him that a new rifle and a pair of boots were waiting at home. We also promised to take him hunting the following day.

At last, he agreed.

We reached the Dorset house at midnight.

This was the hour when I should have been collecting fifteen hundred dollars from a box beside the road.

Instead, I stood on a doorstep and watched Bill count two hundred and fifty dollars into Ebenezer Dorset’s hand.

Mr Dorset checked the money.

Then Johnny understood.

We were leaving him there.

He let out a terrible howl and wrapped himself around Bill’s leg.

“I want to go with you!”

Bill tried to step back.

Johnny held tighter.

His father took hold of him and began pulling him away.

“How long can you hold him?” Bill asked.

Mr Dorset considered the question.

“I’m not as strong as I used to be. But I think I can give you ten minutes.”

“Enough,” Bill said. “In ten minutes, I’ll be heading for Canada.”

Now, Bill was not a slim man. It was dark, the road was uneven, and I have always considered myself a good runner.

But he was a mile and a half outside Summit before I caught up.