A listener would have said that but one man walked on
that lonely trail.
Turning sharply to the right, Sprouse guided his companion through the
brush for some distance, and once more came to a halt. Again he stole
on ahead, and, as before, the slow, confident, even careless progress
of a man ceased as abruptly as that of the comrade who lay helpless in
the thicket below.
"There are others, no doubt, but they patrol the outposts, so to
speak," panted Sprouse as they bound and trussed the second victim.
"We haven't much to fear from them. Come on. We are within a hundred
feet of the house. Softly now, or--"
Barnes laid a firm, detaining hand on the man's shoulder.
"See here, Sprouse," he whispered, "it's all very well for you,
knocking men over like this, but just what is your object? What does
all this lead up to? We can't go on forever slugging and binding these
fellows. There is a house full of them up there. What do we gain by
putting a few men out of business?"
Sprouse broke in, and there was not the slightest trace of emotion in
his whisper.
"Quite right. You ought to know. I suppose you thought I was bringing
you up here for a Romeo and Juliet tete-a-tete with the beautiful Miss
Cameron,--and for nothing else.
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