"How much farther is it?"
"About half a mile."
"Go on, I will follow."
And then the two men moved from the road, following a path into the woods.
August began to suspect something wrong, but he felt that he had gone too far to turn back now, and with his hand on the butt of his trusty revolver, he went forward, resolving to see the adventure through to the end.
Every now and then a bush would brush the face of Bordine, showing that the path was narrow and the wood dense.
Presently a light flashed through the darkness, and soon our two pedestrians found themselves in front of a log cabin, that stood a few yards back from a narrow, brawling creek, whose waters were lashed to foam over rocks and stones.
"This is the place."
Mr. Jones pushed open the door and bade his companion enter.
"Go on; I will follow."