of leaving; though, for that matter, neither Nathan Lindall nor David had taken the servant’s threat seriously. Whatever could be said of Obid, he was no coward, while, even if he had been, his devotion to his master would have proved stronger than his timidity. That day all three worked hard in the fields. Although their muskets were ever within reach, no incident caused any alarm. And when a second day had likewise passed uneventfully, even Obid Dawkin grudgingly allowed that maybe the danger was not so present as he had feared. But on the third morning there was another tale to tell when Obid, opening the door to fetch water from the well, dropped his pail and fell back with a groan that brought the others to his side. Obid, white-faced, pointed to the stone step outside. There in the first ray of sunlight lay an arrow wrapped about with the dried skin of a rattlesnake.
