Philip noted that the man had been injured by the jump, and had lost not only his hat, but the hair from his head.
“He wore a wig!” Philip cried in surprise. “There is where he hid his letters,” and he hastened downstairs to where the prisoner lay.
“You have me this time,” the courier exclaimed as he caught sight of Phil.
“And your papers,” the latter replied, picking up the wig to find a pocket on the inside where was a small, thin, sealed package.
“That is what I meant,” Master Preston said with a groan. “Now you know where I concealed the messages when you captured me before.”
“Where are you injured?” the young officer asked, stooping beside his captive.
“He broke his leg when he jumped,” Late answered.
“When I struck the ground, you mean,” the courier added with a faint attempt at a smile. “But for that I should have escaped.”
“Not much,” Joe interrupted, “for I had my rifle trained on you, an’ in another minute would have fired.”
“Shall we carry him into the house?” Dan asked.