“Now listen,” said Westy. “I’ll tell you afterward. Are you awake enough to have some sense?” “You addressing me?” said Ed. “Don’t you want some—some kind of fish? I caught about a dozen, didn’t I, Warde?”
“Never mind the fish,” said Westy; “do what I tell you and be careful. Walk slantingways toward the brook—upstream—and walk into the brook that way. Step in as if you were walking upstream. All right, that’s all right. Now come down toward me—keep in the water, whatever you do.”
It was a bewildered but obedient pair that waded downstream toward Westy. They had approached the brook against the current and entered it at an angle suggestive of continuing in that direction. Then, dutifully, they had turned and approached Westy.
“Is it all right to bring my safety-pin?” asked Ed.
“Follow me,” said Westy.
“I demand an explanation,” said Ed. “I fished and caught some fish with my safety-pin, then we waited for you before starting a fire——”
“Yes, thank goodness for that,” said Westy.
“We fell asleep, waiting,” said Warde; “we were good and tired.”
“We tried to keep awake telling Ford stories,” said Ed. “Did you ever hear that one about—what’s the matter anyway, are we pinched?”
“Listen,” said Westy, “and stop your fooling. I’ll tell you now, though every minute counts, I can tell you that. There are two robbers camped under that big tree, they’re asleep-”
“I don’t blame them,” said Ed. “I was asleep myself.”
“Listen,” said Westy, impatiently. “They came under the tree—listen—they came under the tree after I was up in it, and I heard their talk. Maybe you think I didn’t have some narrow escape! They had robbed the train we were on—listen! I can’t tell you the whole business now, but anyway I’ve got Mr. Wilde’s wallet and his permit and everything. I had a jacket or something or other—I guess it was—it belonged to one of them—listen—I had—I pulled it from near one of them—Bloodhound Pete—that’s his name—I don’t know where it is now—don’t ask me—back up there I guess—I was so excited—but I’ve got the wallet—you needn’t believe it if you don’t want to. One of those—one of those men—Blood—Bill—Pete—I mean Bloodhound—Bloodhound Pete—can track anything—I heard him say so.
“Now you fellows follow me and don’t either one of you set a foot on dry land. We’re going down, not up. When we get past the place where I left my footprints on the shore, we’ll be all right, that’s what I think. If they think we followed the stream they’ll follow it up. See? Now come on and hurry.”
Thus the trio that had arrived in the cozy, little cleft, which had seemed to be made for a camping spot, left it in fear and haste, having eaten not one morsel there. In single file they hurried along through the protecting water, Warde and Ed thoroughly aroused by the peril which beset them.
They were not hungry, despite their rather long fast. Nor were they inclined to talk until they had passed the rock near which Westy had entered the water. Even Ed’s cheery mood seemed clouded by the seriousness of their situation. Not even Westy’s exploit of recovering the wallet, nor the thrilling details of his adventure, were matter for talk. They moved along, a silent little procession, clinging, trusting to this one hope of safety, the water. So they trod on, silent, apprehensive.
The brook was not............