Jones paid the driver for his services, and then the two men stood alone beside the road, with the dying rattle of swift-flying wheels in their ears.
"What now?"
This question fell from the lips of August Bordine as he gazed about him in the darkness.
"This way."
A hand fell to the shoulder of Mr. Jones. "See here," cried the engineer,
"I am not fully satisfied with these proceedings."
"Aren't you?"
"I am not."
"You can return if you like, only it will be hard on the poor man who lays on a rude cot in the shanty over yonder, dying. He said you was his friend."
"An acquaintance only."
"Very well, you can do as you choose about continuing the journey. I have acted in good faith all along."