The astonished lad cantered eagerly to his side.
"Give me your horse, Eddy," said the father; "I'm in bad luck, and must get." The boy glanced at his father's face, at his tattered garments and bandaged leg, and read the whole story.

It was a familiar page to him.
He paled first and then flushed, and then, with an odd glitter in his eyes, said, "Take me with you, father.

Do! You always did before.

I'll bring you luck." Desperation is superstitious.

Why not take him?
They had been lucky before, and the two together might confound any description of their identity to the pursuers.